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“WHO IS THAT?” ASKED TOM. Page 14, 


His Best Friend 


/ 


JESSIE WRIGHT WHITCOMB 

AUTHOR OF 

Freshman and Senior,” “ Marjoribanks,” etc. 


BOSTON 

Zbc pilgrim press 


CHICAGO 

U- 


Copyright, 1S98, 

By George M. Boynton 



\ \ 


CONTENTS 


HAPTER 

I. 

Laramie’s Assistant . 




Page 

5 

II. 

The Tenement Feast 




17 

III. 

John’s Ideas . . 




35 

IV. 

A Picnic .... 




52 

V. 

A Midnight Adventure . 




64 

VI. 

Transplanted . 




79 

VII. 

In a Bad Business . 




92 

VIII. 

New Quarters . 




104 

IX. 

Dr. Rogers 




119 

X. 

Bower’s Agent . 




131 

XL 

The Krafs 




152 

XII. 

A Service . • . . 




165 

XIII. 

An Errand ' 




181 

XIV. 

Robert Bower’s Return . 




206 

XV. 

A Portrait 




222 

XVI. 

The Tenement . 




235 

XVII. 

At Home .... 




262 

XVIII. 

Plans . ' . . > . . , 




276 

XIX. 

Finis ..... 




286 



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HIS BEST FRIEND 


CHAPTER I 

LARAMIE’S ASSISTANT 

O Tom, please do! won’t you?” 

Can’t say for sure ; mebbe.” Tom’s laughing 
brown eyes looked kindly enough down at the blue- 
eyed, red-haired little Kathie, as she sat in her chair 
by the window. 

The other window in the room gave quite a fair 
view, but Kathie always preferred the one where she 
sat, for that looked out upon the roof of a neighbor- 
ing tenement. That was interesting. Women and 
children came out there and hung up clothes, and 
gossiped, and played ; and farther on across could 
be seen the rear balconies of a still higher tenement 
fronting on another street, and that was interesting, 
too. 

^‘But, Tom, you have n’t been by there for a week, 
and I want to hear what she plays now I” 

Well, all right; and K’ll see if the blooms are 
out yet on that tree — horse-chestnut tree — that 
stands right by their house.” 

5 


6 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


Did you sell all your papers, Tom?” 

“ Every last one. Here, here ’s a card I got for 
you;” and he handed out to Kathie an advertising 
card which she placed on a pile of similar cards on 
the window-sill, after asking some questions about it, 

‘‘Want some water, Kathie? I ’ll go get you some 
fresh ; then I ’m goin’. I told mother Tide I ’d come 
up and see how you were. I ’ll stop at the stand and 
tell her you are getting along all right. You ’ve been 
crying though, I ’ll bet.” 

Kathie nodded in a shamefaced way. “ I get so 
tired, and feel so cross, and ache so,” she said 
simply. 

Tom put his hand on the little white hand near 
him. “Poor Kathie !” he said, somewhat awkwardly. 
“ I ’ll tell you something funny to-night. Mebbe I ’ll 
bring you something, too. Where did John go?” 

“ Hogan told him he could do errants for him all 
the morning.” 

“John’s in luck; but I don’t suppose it chirks 
him up any. He ’s the lonesomest-lookin’ young 
un I ever come across in my life.” 

“John’s the kindest boy ever was,” said Kathie 
warmly. 

“ Oh, come now, Kathie, is he any kinder to you 
than I am?” 

“John can’t help being kind and he’s kind to 
everybody. But, Tom, you ’re kind on purpose to 


me. 


LARAMIE'S ASSISTANT 


7 


Tom laughed, the rollicking, catching sort of a 
laugh that always made any one smile just to hear 
him. 

‘‘ Coin’ now; good-bye !” and off he went rattlety 
bang down the tenement-house stairs, flight after 
flight, for they lived at the top, and went whistling 
up the street, teasing other boys, throwing anything 
he could And to throw, jumping over water plugs, 
alive to everything. 

Mother Lide, the little old apple-woman, was the 
only relative Tom and John claimed, and she was no 
relative at all. She was not so old as she looked, 
and she looked very much like some of her own 
apples — some of the withered ones. She was a 
short, round little woman, with cheeks still red, rather 
dim eyes, and a kindly expression that won her a 
“ mother from every one. 

Tom had drifted to that tenement from another 
part of the city and had established himself with 
Mother Lide and Kathie and John. He sold papers 
and managed to keep himself in more or less appro- 
priate clothes, and paid over what he could to 
Mother Lide. He and John slept in a little room 
like a closet, though it had an outside window, off 
Mother Lide’s main room, which was simply called 
the room.” Sometimes he got his meals from 
Mother Lide, but oftener he did n’t. 

John had lived in the tenement for six years, and 
Mother Lide said he was five years old when he 


8 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


came. He had lived with a man who claimed to be 
blind, though he coufd see when sight was necessary. 
He had an organet and it was John’s duty to lead 
him to his post and sit around with him all day while 
he ground out the two tunes the organet played. 
Four years previously the man died and John had 
been staying since with Mother Lide. He was a 
quiet, forlorn little boy, never in the way, always 
obliging, and painfully anxious to obliterate himself. 
At the same time he seemed to have very keen pow- 
ers of observation and a sense of humor that made 
him very much liked by Tom and Kathie. 

Kathie was Mother Tide’s little granddaughter, 
and the boys supposed she was the only relative 
Mother Lide had until the afternoon they talked 
with Mr. Mulhaley. Mr. Mulhaley was in some 
respects the patriarch of the tenement, a slouchy, 
garrulous old soul, very much indulged by an un- 
usually kind son, who took pride in having his 
father doze away his old age in comfort. 

Tom and John were pitching pennies when Tom 
said : I wonder why Mother Lide lets us stay with 

her, anyway. She gives us all the covers she can 
spare, and she always lets us eat when she ’s got 
anything extra good, and lots of times she stays up 
late and washes and mends up our things.” 

‘H ’ll tell yer, byes, the why of it,” said Mr. Mul- 
haley, who was sunning himself near by. “ Mother 
Lide, she ’5 seen a power o’ trouble, I ’ll be havin’ 


LARAMlE^S ASSISTANT 


9 


yer know. Her man was a howly terror, if I Ve me 
ricollictions about me, and she had a power o’ chil- 
der, a dozen I ’ll swear to. The eldest girl, she 
married and had the little — Kathie is it ye call her? 
And she died, and Mother Tide had the little one. 
No; the child wasn’t lame then. It’s her grand- 
father’s doin’s that she ’s niver stepped around lively 
like other childer since she ’s two years old. Well, 
all Mother Hide’s other childer died babies, savin’ 
Billy, the one that was born and got raised up a bit 
while his father was sent up. Billy was a strampin’, 
tearin’ broth of a bye, that he was, and a koind heart 
into the bargain ; as clever a spalpeen as ever yez 
clapped eyes on. But there was a set of men 
around here that was no good, and they were in for 
havin’ Billy wan of thim, and they buttered their 
tongues for the bye, and they got him in that deep 
gettin’ out was just hopeless. And his mother cry in’ 
her eyes out, and that afraid of the police ! You 
see her man was done for, and she might have had 
peace with her bye and the slip of a gal. But things 
went worse, and when the little one was in the hos- 
pital yet, he lit out, and she ’s niver clapped eyes on 
him since. Well, Mother Hide she give up lookin’ 
for Billy, but she allers had a soft spot in her heart 
for byes and many and many ’s the good turn she ’s 
done bits o’ byes around this coort.” 

‘‘Well, I never! ” said Tom. “Why don’t that 
Billy come back? ” 


10 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Taken up, likely,” said Mr. Mulhaley laconically. 

The story made a good deal of impression on 
both the boys. Tom became zealous to have more 
earnings to pay for his lodging, and to bring home 
some extra treat for a meal, and John was more 
openly helpful about the stand and about cheering 
up Kathie. 

As Tom went on down toward Mother Tide’s | 
apple-stand he could not help thinking how pitiful j 
Kathie looked, and how anxious she was that he | 
should go down that quiet side street he had told 
her about, where in one of the houses a young lady 
so often played such pretty tunes on the piano — 
tunes which he in turn would whistle for Kathie. 

Well, I ’ll go, sure,” he thought. 

So that afternoon he wandered down the street 
Kathie loved best to hear about. 

It was a warm, beautiful day, and the quiet street 
seemed like a very peaceful spot. The occasional 
trees, all horse-chestnuts, in their tree boxes, cast 
flickering shadows on the sidewalks. The high 
stoops looked shady and inviting ; curtains at open 
windows puffed in and out, and the tree in front 
of the particular house Tom came to see was in 
bloom. 

The house itself, however, was a changed place. 
Straws littered the steps ; through the open win- 
dows of the parlor, furniture could be seen sewed up 
in gunny-cloth. 


LARAMIE"' S ASS IS TA ATT 


1 1 

Movin’ ! ” ejaculated Tom, scenting a possible 
^ job ; and he seated himself on the curbing to see 
what would happen next. 

Inside the house the process of packing was in 
various stages of development. The down-stairs room 
' fronting the street was bare and stiff, occupied only 
by furniture dressed in traveling suits, whereas in 
^ the room behind little progress had been made. 
' A flushed, pretty young lady with curly and some- 
' what disoedered hair was sitting on the floor sorting 
^ over things. The things were her own and dearly 
^ treasured, and she was supposed to be putting them 
into traveling order and transferring them as they 
;were sorted into boxes. At present she was arrang- 
i ing photographs — photographs not of people but of 
^ paintings. They were all destined for her room 
up-stairs, where she meant to pack them in a trunk 
4 with some other sacred treasures. 

^j| Now if they were only up-stairs,” she thought, 
‘‘instead of down here; but I have run up and down 
stairs until I am sick of it. I wish we had a boy or 
H somebody. There is never anybody on this street. 

^ I believe I ’ll go down to the corner and see if I can 
‘ find a boy.” 

She looked around the room rather despairingly. 

• ! “ What an unpractical sort of a family we are, any- 
■ I way ! And how we do hate to move ! And we 
^ ; can’t get our things together ! ” 

I She laughed to think how when the packers came 

! 

! 


12 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


almost everything they touched roused a cry of, 
Oh, no ! do n’t take that — that is n’t ready ! ” 
“There’s father worrying over his manuscripts up 
in the study; and Aunt Mary — poor, dear soul! — 
getting together her relics ; and me fussing over 
these photographs. Dear 1 dear 1 I just will find a 
boy — anything for a diversion 1 ” 

She tucked up her hair, pulled out and put in 
two or three hairpins, shook out her dress, and went 
to the front door. ♦ 

There sat a boy on the curb. 

“A dispensation 1 ” she murmured. 

“ What is your name? ” she asked, as Tom looked 
up at her. 

“ Tom.” 

“ I want you to come in and help me pack.” 

Her voice had a confident, pleasant, rather impera-f 
tive little ring in it that brought Tom up the steps/ 
cap in hand, in very quick order. The laugh in his 
eyes found a match in the eyes of his new employer.! 

“ Come right in here,” and she led him back to[ 
the room she had just deserted. She piled as mucli ; 
as he could possibly carry in a large basket, put the| ; 
remaining things she wanted in another, and led him ^ 
up-stairs. The room they entered was large and! 
sunny, with a few geraniums in one window, threef'| 
open trunks, and four small packing-boxes. All i 
sorts of things were strewn on the bed, sofa, chairs; i 
and floor. ! 


LARAM/E'^S ASSISTANT 


13 


Miss Roslyn looked around with a despairing 
gesture. 

Tom, can you tie up packages ? ” 

‘‘Yes’m; I Ve often done it.” 

Good ! I shall sort these pictures into sets as 
fast as I can, and you may tie them up for me. 
Perhaps I shall begin to make some headway at last.” 

Tom sat on the floor and watched her sort the 
photographs. She had a very complete collection 
of the old masters, and those she sorted first. Tom 
tied them carefully, and Laramie stowed them away 
in a box with a sigh of relief. Then she began to 
make up sets of pictures of modern paintings. Her 
arrangement was hasty, and consisted 3imply in put- 
ting landscapes together, regardless of artist or date, 
and genre pictures together, and historical pictures 
together, and religious pictures together. Whatever 
was left she hastily dubbed miscellaneous and put 
those together. 

One set she handed Tom had a picture on top that 
he could not stop looking at. A boy of about his 
own age was sitting in the foreground of a carpenter’s 
’ shop, looking straight out at Tom. It was a lovable 
j enough little boy’s face — a healthy, nice little boy — 
j but the eyes seemed to Tom to be looking right 
j through him, and to have a wonderful expression of 
I confidence and love. The boy had a clumsy knife 
j and a bit of wood in his hand, and seemed to have 
' just stopped whittling. 


14 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Who ’s that? ” asked Tom. 

Laramie leaned over to see. 

Is n’t he a dear? I just love that picture ! ” I 
‘^Who is it?” " 

Then Laramie’s face sobered. After a moment’^ 
thought she said quietly, — 

Some one has tried to paint a picture of Jesus, 
when he was a little boy. You know who Jesus j 
was?” 

Not him — only a dead Jesus.” 

‘‘Jesus was the Son of God — God, who madfi 
everything, you know — and he was born on this j 
earth a baby, and lived, quite a long time ago, i|[ j 
another country. This picture shows him in a cai4| 
penter’s shop, because he lived in one. He lived j|| 
poor little boy; but,” very earnestly, “it was a cleai]i,j 
sweet, wholesome sort of poor — not the shiftlesa^j 
dirty poor.” | 

Tom blushed, but raised his eyes from the picture j 
and looked steadily at Laramie. She stopped, and] 
he said hastily, “Then what?” | 

“ Oh, you can go into any church or any Sunday- 
school, or ask almost anybody, and hear all about 
him. You ought to do it. However, he lived ^ 
whole boyhood, and so, of course, he knows all 
about boys, and you can depend upon it that every 
boy who played with him learned to want to be kind 
and true and pure — the best sort of a boy — because 
that was the kind he was. When he grew up liC 


LARAM/E'^S ASS/STAATT 


15 


spent his time doing what he was born to do, and 
suffered a dreadful death, and ” — 

'' Oh, he is dead ! ” 

Laramie looked at Tom curiously; then she leaned 
toward him in a confidential way and in a low tone 
said, ‘‘Tom, there’s more to it than that. Now 
i listen. It won’t be everybody who can tell you 
I this.” 

Tom fixed his intent brown eyes on hers. 

“He came to earth for the whole world. He 
lived a little child for all children. But it was n’t 
enough just to have been there in Nazareth. Now — 
now that he is no longer held to one spot by the 
I earthly body that he took — now he lives for and with 
all who can believe him, and know him and love 
; him. And to children, believe me,” Laramie seemed 
I to be both exerting and feeling a strange fascination, 

! “he is a child still, knows a child’s heart, thinks a 
\ child’s thoughts. That little boy,” pointing to the 
I picture, “ is your little boy friend, always with you, 
^ glad in your gladness, grieved in your sorrow, ready 
V to share with you hyh — his life — the life that cannot 
[■ die, the strength that cannot fail, the courage that 
I knows no discouragement, victory that never dreamed 
I of defeat. And you haven’t known it! Mustn't it 
I have been hard for him, when he waited beside you 
! with his whole, fresh boy heart, — that you would n’t 
I see him, nor heed him, nor care?” 

Tom’s eyes were opened wide, and his lips parted. 


1 6 HIS BEST FRIEIVD 

Could n’t you go right on and amount to any- 
thing great you wanted to, with him to care and be 
glad? Would n’t you hate anything mean and dirty, 
and low-minded, and untrue, with him to feel shame 
for you ? Would n’t you easily choose what is brave 
and strong and good, with him beside you?” 

She stopped short and went on sorting pictures. 
Tom tied diligently, but was evidently absorbed in 
thought. Laramie watched him with the keenest 
interest. A warm color rose in his face ; his brow 
would knit slightly and then relax. His square little 
chin seemed to acquire a curious firmness, and just 
as Laramie resolved to ask him a question he turned 
directly to her. 

‘^Do you suppose it’s too late now to square it up 
with him ? I ’d like him to know how glad I ’d be to 
have him keep on around with me, and how sorry I 
am I ’ve been so unnoticin’ before.” 

Oh, he knows now,” said Laramie quickly. 

He ’s different from a friend you have to explain 
things to. You’ll be somebody worth while now, 
Tom. There ; we have done splendidly with these 
things ! Take this basket to the door at the end of 
the hall ; knock and give it to Aunt Mary ; call 
her Miss Roslyn ; ask her if she wants you to help 
her. I’ll be there in a minute.” 


CHAPTER II 


THE TENEMENT FEAST 

The Roslyns were, as Laramie had said, a very 
impractical family. 

Mr. Roslyn was a minister, but he had never had 
a church. Although he had something of the ora- 
tor in his make-up, a nervous difficulty prevented 
his being even a partial success in the pulpit. He 
was a student, a scholar. A small fortune shared by 
his sister, the lame Miss Roslyn, had enabled him to 
live in comfortable quiet, and to give his daughter 
Laramie such advantages as she desired. 

A recent failure, however, had involved him to 
such an extent that it was no longer possible to keep 
their home and live as they had been living. A 
brother, David Roslyn, a merchant in another city, 
had proposed that his brother, sister, and niece 
should make their home with him. The rent of their 
house and Laramie’s small inheritance from her 
mother would then enable them to do very well. 
This seemed to be the only feasible plan and was 
one they all agreed to, but moving presented harrow- 
ing difficulties to all of them. 

Miss Roslyn, dear, good soul, was well on the way 
to tears, of a not altogether sorrowful sort, over the 
17 


i8 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


things she was unearthing from her drawers and 
boxes, when Tom knocked at the door. 

Come in, Laramie,” was the reply that made 
Tom chuckle. 

'^It’s a basket of things. Miss Roslyn, the — that 
young lady sent here,” said Tom when he opened 
the door. I 'm Tom. I 'm helping pack.” 

Now that is nice,” was the hearty answer. 

She said — that young lady did — I was to ask if , 
you did n’t want me to help you.” 

He saw at a glance that she was lame, and he was 
wide awake to see how she felt about it and what she 
could do. Poor Kathie ! Tom had been troubled 
more than he would have liked to own by Kathie’s 
crying fits, for she was naturally the brightest- 
tempered little thing that ever was. 

‘^Yes, indeed; Ido. I want that work-basket 
over there, and I shall be glad to have you do several 
things. It is very nice for an old lame woman like 
me to have a handy boy around.” 

How pleasant, how jolly she did look ! Tom deter- 
mined to find out the cause of it, if possible. I 
do n’t see how you can keep so — so pleasant — look- 
ing, when you are lame,” he said bluntly. 

‘‘Lameness is n’t much. I had thirty years of going 
around on two legs and that was enough, probably. I 
was in a railroad accident. Now that would interest 
you, would n’t it? Of course it would. Give me that 
clean towel, please, and that box. Thank you.” 


THE TENEMENT FEAST 


19 


I ^^But now you aren’t walking,” persisted Tom, 
how can you keep so satisfied?” 

Why, my dear boy, why should n’t I be happy? 
Perhaps I have my blue moments sometimes, but 
who is there who doesn’t? I am ashamed of it 
I quickly enough. A boy of your age does n’t know 
what comfort there is in this,” picking up from the 
i table by her side a New Testament bound in flexible 
Russia leather. The very thought of the loving- 
kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ” — Tom looked 
surprised — of his constant sympathy, takes me 
right out of myself. That ’s where we all want to 
get — out of ourselves. I ’ll be preaching you a ser- 
mon, my dear. Now the ebony box — the black one. 
Perhaps you do n’t understand how Jesus can do so 
much for me?” 

Tom had an odd feeling that close beside him 
stood that clear-eyed boy, listening as he listened, dis- 
j seminating in some way peace, health, goodness, and 
that Miss Roslyn did n’t know it — not as he knew it. 
i I should think he might do a great deal for you,” 
he said quietly, and Miss Roslyn stopped her work 
' to look at him. 

' “ Perhaps you know some one who is lame ?” she 

said. 

I do,” promptly. Kathie is lame ; she can’t 
walk, and she cries and wants to play. Her grand- 
i mother seljs apples all day, and sometimes when it’s 
pleasant we can get Kathie down to the stand, but 


20 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


she aches and gets tired. And she ’s nice, too, when 
she chirks up.” 

Poor darling, can she read?” 

No ’m ; she can't read.” 

She could entertain herself if she had something 
nice to read.” 

That’s so. She likes stories John tells her.” 

Now the hamper. You are a great help.” 

Tom was disappointed. He had thought that this 
smiling little lame lady might perhaps know of some 
enchanted powder or drink which could assure hap- 
piness to a cripple. 

I should think a doctor would be better than 
that book,” he hazarded. 

Miss Roslyn looked at him in astonishment. It 
was hard to make Tom’s remarks match. 

Why, I had doctors ; plenty of them. God 
helps those who help themselves, and he has put us 
in the way of being able to help ourselves a great 
deal. But the doctors were n’t able to keep me from 
being a cripple. Our Saviour is the greatest of all 
doctors. Do n’t you know Jesus is called the Great 
Physician?” 

'' When was he?” flashed out Tom. 

Why, for three years there in his own country, 
after he grew to be a man, he went around healing 
the sick, making the lame walk, opening the eyes of 
the blind, comforting and blessing the crpwds who 
followed him.” 


THE TENEMENT FEAST 


21 


Again there came over Tom that strangely real, 
vivid sense of the boy quietly beside him carried 
I back by those words to other times and places, but 
still voluntarily, staunchly, readily beside him. How 
great and wonderful and grand he must have been ! 
— and yet right there with him ! 

He can do what no other doctor can do. He 
I can cure the soul, and a well soul, my dear boy, is 
in many cases the surest cure for a sick body. And 
though there seems to be no good reason for my 
being cured of my lameness, I enjoy the very best 
of health, and I am as happy as any one I know. 
Is n’t that a great deal for a doctor to do ?” 

‘^Yes’m.” He was feeling somewhat confused. 

‘‘Yes, indeed, dear; you will always find that 
|i after we have availed ourselves of the most distin- 
, guished medical aid that money can buy, we still can 
! have a far greater service done for us by the Great 
i Physician, free.” 

“Well, free doctorin’ is the sort for Kathie, sure.” 

“There, the very thing!” exclaimed Miss Roslyn. 
“Wasn’t it odd I should come across it now! This 
j! is a sort of a tract. It isn’t anything I would think 
j! of giving a great, strong, two-legged creature like you, 

; but it is about a little lame girl, and what she did, 

I and how she got along, and I want you to read it. 

It will give you ideas. You will see some very nice 
' things to do for Kathie, and you will find it will be 
: just the thing to help her. How old is she?” 


22 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Eight or nine. She ’s little, with the prettiest red , 
hair, sort of curly, and the bluest sort of eyes, just ■ 
as round ! I ’ll be awful glad of that book ! Kathie | 
does n’t have any fun, only just advertisement cards, ? 
and she ’s getting sick of those, and John plays jacks 
some with her.” 

There was a knock at the door, followed by Lara- ^ 
mie’s amused face. 

Such a talking as there has been going on in this j 
room ! Aunt Mary, I do n’t believe you ’ve done a f 
thing ! Tom, I want you to come to my father’s 
study, and I want you to take down every single , 
book off the shelves. There ’s a small step-ladder | 
there. You are to set them anywhere on the floor, * 
and once that is done I think I can persuade father 
to pack. Now you need n’t mind father, Tom. He 
is reading an article out loud, and he will read right 
at you, and shake his head at you and all ; but you . 
need n’t mind ; he won’t have an idea you are a real 
boy.” 

‘^Good-bye, Tom,” said Miss Roslyn. Shake' 
hands with me, dear.” 

Tom had never been deared ” so much in one 
day before, though Mother Lide was not averse to ' 
warm expressions, and he grew quite red in the face , 
as he said a hearty good-bye. 

Here, in here,” and Laramie gave Tom a push 
into the study. 

Mr, Roslyn stood by a littered-up table reading — 


THE TENEMENT FEAST 


23 


or speaking — with great vigor. Tom tried to sup- 
press his interest and even anxiety, and went to work 
on the books at once. Mr. Roslyn was warming up 
to his speech in fine style. Somewhat to Tom’s con- 
sternation he directed his remarks particularly to 
him, waving his arms and banging the table. Tom 
liked anything energetic, and in a few moments he 
was listening, entranced, to Mr. Roslyn’s periods. 
There was very little that he could make much sense 
of, but the new words sounded well to him, and some 
of the things that were said startled him almost to 
the point of dropping the books. 

The grandeur of the historic Christ, Jesus the 
Christ ! Think of it all ! The nations of the earth 
lay in darkness, the Jew in blind conceit, the Greek 
groping for the unknown God, the Roman sodden 
with lust and pride. And then there unrolled before 
the eyes of men a new dawn. The Light of the 
world was made flesh. The manger, the carpenter 
shop, the cross, and the tomb. We call it the 
humiliation ! Not so ! It was a triumph, God’s 
victory. Any soul made mighty by spiritual com- 
munion knows nothing lower than its own free soul- 
life. Much more so with the Lord of all. The 
manger, the shop, the cross, the tomb, received a 
new rank — but they could confer nothing.” 

Tom finally gave in completely and sat down, 
basely giving over his labors, and listened. He had 
never heard any one go on that way. 


24 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


‘^The Christ! the Christ! consciously eternal, 
magnificently pitying, grandly content in his own 
brief earth-life to teach that one lesson hardest to 
learn, that life is being, that our best and highest 

must be lived out, not heedinp; results.” 

. ^ 

Tom waited in suspense after Mr. Roslyn had , 
reached a very climax of oratory, and then thrilled 
through and through as the speaker lowered his i 
voice and said solemnly, looking straight at Tom : I 

Live earnestly. Know what life is. Confound I 
it not with death. Be a light in a dark place. See [ 
that the chain of signal fires to light the world fails I 
not for lack of your life-fire. Do your part to win I 
the world for Jesus.” f 

Mr. Roslyn wiped his face with his handkerchief t 
and exclaimed, '' Why is it I never could do that in * 
a pulpit? Why, where did you come from?” staring y 
fixedly at Tom. f 

A young lady sent me up here to take down 
books and — and — you talked so splendid, I just had | 
to stop and listen.” 

Did she, indeed ! Of course ; and I preached 
to you, did I ? How did you like it?” with a benevo- 
lent smile. 

Bully!” was the enthusiastic answer. Wish ^t 
I could talk like that!” 

You can ! Make up your mind to and you can ! 
Fill yourself with your subject, Christ Jesus, the 
Christ ! Think Christ ! Dream Christ ! Live 


THE TENEMENT FEAST 


25 


Christ! It is a magnificent subject. Everything 
else pales into insignificance beside it. You will be 
Ij red-hot with eloquence. If you feel the wonder of 
it all, press forward into the ranks. I suppose you 
are one of Laramie’s Sunday-school boys? You 
hear fine preaching every Sunday, and Laramie her- 
self, I hope, is not without zeal for the kingdom.” 

Tom was sure he had lost his bearings entirely 
when the door opened and in came Laramie. 

Can’t have you stay any longer, Tom. I must 
say I can’t see that you have done any great exe- 
cution on those books,” she said reproachfully, 
glancing at the shelves. 

I ’ll hurry like everything if you can only let me 
wait a little,” said Tom eagerly. He felt ashamed 
but he did n’t know what to say. Seeing that 
Laramie did not refuse, he made what speed he 
could and with sufficient success to win back a smile 
of good-humored approval to Laramie’s face. 

“Well, you can work; that’s a fact. I wish we 
were not going to leave the city, Tom, so I could 
become better acquainted with you.” 

“ Oh, I shall be better acquainted with you some 
day,” was Tom’s cheerful answer. 

Laramie paid him, and with his little tract for 
Kathie and a college catalogue and a library cata- 
logue in which Mr. Roslyn had considerately 
marked some books suitable for an advanced stu- 
dent, Tom felt that his worldly goods had consider- 


26 


niS BEST FRIEND 


ably increased. As he took off his cap and nodded 
a last good-bye to Laramie and went on slowly down 
the street, he had a queer sensation of having been 
gone for years in a strange new world. He went 
so far as to shake himself and look at his clothes. 
As he did so, the words “ clean, sweet, wholesome 
sort of poor,” came back to him. 

Of course you won’t want me to be dirty if 
that ’s the case,” he thought, and running as fast as 
he could to the point where he could see the nearest 
clock, he found he had still time for the penny baths. 
To the penny baths he went, found room enough, 
and a better scrubbing he never had since he was 
born. His shirt and trowsers were no better than 
they had been before, but he had a clean, sweet,, 
and wholesome ” feeling, no matter how he looked. 

And if I do n’t get a piece of soap and get Mother 
Lide to let me wash these here togs this very night, 
I ’ll know the reason why.” Would n’t Kathie be 
glad to know what had happened to him at the 
Roslyns? Then he had a sudden desire to do some- 
thing to brighten Kathie up. And he knew John 
would like to help. As he ran on toward the 
tenement he saw John just ahead of him. 

Hi there, John ! ” 

John turned. 

Hello ! Say, did Hogan pay you? ” 

No. Said he would some other day.” 

Old fake ! Say, come on around there with me 


THE TENEMENT FEAST 


27 


and you just keep quiet and let me run things, only 
you agree to everything I do. I Ve got a quarter. 
Had the rummest go you ever heard of. I ’ll tell 
you all about it. Let ’s give Kathie and Mother 
Lide a raving, tearing, bumptious spread. Kathie ’s 
just pining away, and a little fun will fix her up 
I good. Now we ’ll go to Hogan’s, and I ’ll get some 
1 things for your pay.” 

John’s face looked a bit less solemn. Do you 
[ think he’ll give anything? ” 

, You just see if he do n’t ! ” 

I He ’s awful mean,” said John. 

• Do n’t I know that? ” 

\ Say, Mr. Hogan,” said Tom, as they entered the 
I store, ‘‘John do n’t want money for his errants this 
time; we’re going to have a high jinks and we want 
eatin’ things; nothing bad, neither.” 

1 “ He did n’t earn much,” grumbled Mr. Hogan. 

“ Come off ! I know what he earned. Now, say, I 
want some strawberries ; honest, I do, and some crack- 
' ers, and some of those little cakes you ’ve got there, 
and I want a can of salmon, and a loaf of bread.” 

Mr. Hogan laughed outright. 

“ Now you ’ll see me get ’em, too. You ’re not 
going to lose one thing by this, Mr. Hogan. I ’ll 
make it all right for you,” with a lordly air, “ but 
I ’m going to look around,” and finally, by arguing 
and chaffing and making Mr. Hogan alternately 
angry and amused, he got about what he wanted. 


28 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


There now, John,” said Tom, as they left the 
store with their packages, “ this is your spread in- 
stead of mine, and I want you to take five cents and 
buy something for Kathie, a real present. You ’ll 
get something she ’ll like better ’n I will. I never 
can think of things. Then you go on up and get 
fixed for the show, and 1 ’ll go on and help Mother 
Lide. Can you carry them all? Hurry up,” and 
aw^ay dashed Tom. 

John was nearer to feeling like having a sphere 
than he usually felt as he proceeded to expend his 
five-cent piece. It did n’t take him long. Around 
at the milk depot in the next street they had little 
potted plants for sale, and John bought a nice little 
fragrant violet for his five cents. 

Carrying his packages carefully, he toiled up the 
long stairway, fearful lest some one should run into 
him, or some boy knock his things out of his arms ; 
but the top was completed in safety and Kathie 
turned eagerly toward the door as he came in. 

‘‘Oh, John,” she sobbed, “I ’m so glad you ’ve come.” 

“What’s the matter, Kathie?” he asked, gently. 

“ Oh, there hasn’t been anybody in at all, not 
once, and I’m so tired, and — oh, John! what’s all 
that?” brightening up at the sight of the packages. 

“ Something splendid, Kathie I A good spread, 
and I earned it. Tom said I did.” He picked out 
the things. “He’s gone for Mother Lide, and we 
are to get everything ready, you and me, Kathie.” 


THE TENEMENT FEAST 29 

Kathie was clapping her hands, half laughing and 
: half crying. 

You mustn’t look at the things just yet, Kathie. 
You tell me what to put on the table and I’ll do 
I just what you say.” 

' Oh, we ’ll have the table in the middle, so we 
I can all sit around, and I ’ll get the cloth.” 

‘ Kathie seized her little old crutches and limped 
: over to the chest of drawers. Out came a white 
table-cloth, one of her mother’s treasures. John 
played he was a waiter, and threw the cloth over the 
table with a grand air, swelling his chest out, and 
making military turns that quite convulsed Kathie. 

‘^Why, John, you can be just as funny as Tom !” 
she exclaimed in the greatest admiration. 

I Then John put on the cups and plates, carrying 
them high above his head on his finger-tips, and 
I making a low bow to Kathie every time he set any- 
thing down. 

‘‘ Now, Kathie, you look out the window till I say 
: look.” 

And Kathie stared out of the window, doing her 
, best not to turn around, though she almost did twice. 

Now look !” 

‘‘Oh, John !” cried Kathie. “Oh, how pretty !” 

The fragrant little violet was right in the middle of 
; the table. 

“John, did you buy that, too?” 

“ Why, I bought it, but Tom gave me the money 


30 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


to get it. He told me to buy something for you. And 
you just ought to see Tom, Kathie. He looked so 
clean and nice. Tom is awful handsome.” 

Kathie’s eyes glowed assent. 

'' There, Mother Tide’s coming ! Tom ’s ahead ; I 
can hear his step.” 

Kathie always called her grandmother Mother 
Tide, just as everybody did, and as for Mother Tide, 
little Kathie had come to her just after the death of 
her youngest child and had always seemed to her to 
be that child — one of her own. The little thing’s 
deformity, caused by her grandfather, had been one 
of Mother Tide’s keenest sorrows, and it was becom- 
ing daily almost more than she could bear to leave 
the child, growing visibly weaker, to suffer all day 
by herself. The neighbors were kind, but Kathie 
pined for her grandmother or the boys. The com- 
fort it had been to Mother Tide to have Tom and 
John kind to Kathie was unspeakable. John was 
quite to be depended upon to stay with her and be- 
friend her, but he had odd jobs to do, running er- 
rands or minding somebody’s baby. 

This had been a hard day for Mother Tide, for she 
knew John might have to work for Hogan all day 
and her quick insight had told her that Tom found 
Kathie crying and lonesome when he had seen her at 
noon. She was glad when the day was over and 
doubly glad that Tom came to help her get home 
with her barrow. 


THE TENEMENT FEAST 


31 


^‘You’re a good, kind boy, Tom,” she said for the 
fourth time, as they reached the landing outside her 
room. She almost hated to go in to hear Kathie’s 
sobbing cry of welcome. 

Tom threw open the door and stood there, a good 
broad smile on his face, while Mother Tide looked 
in as astonished as could be desired. The last rays 
of sunlight still slanted through the window, illumi- 

I nating Kathie’s curly red hair and pale little face, all 
alive with joy; it touched up the forks and spoons 
evenly placed on the unaccustomed white cloth ; and 
the berries and the violet and all the things had a 
most flaunting festal air. John stood by the table, 
his grave, philosophic countenance showing a quiet 
appreciation of all the phases of the scene. 

' ‘‘And where am I, for sure ?” exclaimed Mother 
Tide. 

“ Oh, Mother Tide ! It ’s a feast ! Do n’t it be 
beautiful? The boys did it ! Oh, I ’m so happy !” 

“ I ’m hardly knowin’ if I ’m meself ; and its 
. grand, Tom ; I might be seeing you looked different. 

It’s all honest doin’s, is it?” quickly to him. 

; “Honest? course!” laughed Tom. “It’s John’s 
I spread. You’dknow John was honest, would n’t you?” 

I “Oh, yes; I’m knowin’ Johnnie would be honest,” 

1 with a kind look at John. 

All the time she was bustling about, and in a few 
i minutes the impatient little crowd sat down at the 
table. 


32 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Tom had never before eaten off a table-cloth. He 
had felt as though he was in a wholly new world all 
the afternoon and now, though back in his old famil- 
iar quarters, the world was still not the same. 

^^And it never will be the same again, for now you 
know Me.” 

Tom did not feel like looking around for a voice 
to say that. Already he had a perfect consciousness 
of a companionship not outside of nor apart from 
himself, but of Some One capable of presenting him- 
self to an inner consciousness — the real Tom. There 
was something strangely, happily satisfying about it. 
He accepted it at once without question or analysis. 
Happy-go-lucky, mischievous, rather bad little street 
boy that he was, with a hand for every fight, and 
with ears and eyes for every bit of evil, just as mate- 
rial and concrete as he could be, this new compan- 
ionship was nevertheless accepted at once as natural, 
possible, and precious beyond expression. He 
seemed awake to everything he had been awake to 
before, and much more. He had never felt so near 
Mother Tide, Kathie, and John. He had never 
looked at them with such intelligent, seeing eyes. 
He seemed to understand and know things of the 
heart that had never occurred to him before. 

How nice you look, Tom !” said Mother Lide as 
she began to help out the things. 

'' Tell about getting your quarter, Tom,” put in 
John, 


THE TEHEMEHT FEAST 33 

Say, Mother Lide, I want you to let me wash my 
clothes to-night. Will you? I won’t make a slop, 
I or I ’ll clean it up if I do.” 

I ’ll wash ’em for you. Tommy, lad.” 

Well, you just won’t! you’re tired enough. John 
can wash his, too, can’t he? And we’ll wash any- 
thing you want, to make up for the trouble. John’s 
I always hating his things dirty.” 

Kathie was eating her berries, with the manner of a 
little epicurean, and they all saw to it that she had the 
lion’s share. Her mobile little face looked so happy I 

“ Oh, tell me about the quarter, Tom.” 

So Tom detailed his adventures. Kathie asked 
the most questions ; John listened with a quite 
breathless eagerness when Tom told of the library 
with all the books, and of Mr. Roslyn’s talking away 
in resounding periods. Tom did not think of trying 
to repeat anything he heard, but he described every- 
thing in a quick, vivid way that reproduced the 
whole adventure. 

‘^And I’ve got the book, Kathie, right in my 
pocket, that the lame Miss Roslyn gave me, and it 
; will tell a power of things.” 

, ‘^When will you read it, Tom?” asked Mother 
Lide, eagerly. She could not read herself, and she 
was afraid the fateful moment would pass, and the 
I mysteries of the book remain a secret. You won’t 
; go out again to-night, will you ? I ’ll let there be a 
light, and you can read what the book says.” 

3 


34 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Although Tom had rarely been in .there except 
in the bitterest weather until he came fn to sleep, 
he felt very glad of the chance. He was as anx- 
ious to see what the book might contain as any one. 

They all assisted in the clearing up of the great 
feast, and Tom did his best songs and a clog-dance, 
and told funny stories until Kathie laughed and 
laughed again. John remained unobtrusively enjoy- 
ing Tom’s brilliancy, and Mother Tide, with the 
open cheerfulness of her temperament, laughed and 
admired and spurred Tom on to the top of his bent. 

'' Faith, and I do n’t be knowin’ when I ’ve had 
such a good time,” said she. 

Then the lamp was lit, and Tom sat down to read 
the little book to the others. 


CHAPTER III 


JOHN’S IDEAS 

It was a pretty story that Tom read ; a story of a 
little lame girl and her brothers and older sisters ; of 
how they all tried to make a living, and of all the 
ways and contrivances they devised to make both 
ends meet. The story told how the little lame girl 
helped, and how she was the best loved by them all. 
Tom was not a very rapid reader, and the story was 
still unfinished when Mother Tide had already fallen 
asleep in her chair. Kathie was all eyes and ears. 
She did not know very much about stories, and the 
narrative was full of a mysterious charm for her. 
John liked it almost as well. Books always fasci- 
nated him. He was always wishing for a book, 
some sort of a book ; as yet he did not care what. 

And Tom was keenly alive to what he was read- 
ing for the suggestions it contained. The story 
family really did things. One boy worked in a 
fancy store, and one boy worked in a pasteboard 
box factory. They each were given, or allowed to 
take, all sorts of odds and ends, bits of paper, 
tissues, colored tying ribbons, tinsel scraps. The 
little lame girl and one sister made these things up 
into gayly dressed paper dolls, which were disposed 


35 


36 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


of very readily. Tom had a feeling that it was an 
unusual concatenation of events that made every- 
thing dovetail so beautifully, and result in such 
satisfactory money returns ; still, it seemed to be 
an unusual family, their two rooms were so pretty, 
their food was so excellently managed ; they were 
so gifted and skilful. 

Tom did not want to doubt that nice little book, 
but he did. One thing about the story aroused his 
strongest interest. There were constant references 
to Jesus Christ, to his words, to their prayers to him 
for guidance, to his care for them. Tom had a dim 
comprehension of what was meant, but it seemed 
very difficult and complicated to him. The real, 
living presence beside him, within him, of his new 
friend, Jesus, as he came to him, was so plain and 
simple. 

‘‘I am right here with you now. You needn’t 
mind about anything else now.” Tom knew He said 
that. 

It had been a very strange day, so strange that 
when Tom lay down on the little pile of things he 
called his bed, in the closet-like room, his head was 
in a whirl — a happy sort of whirl. 

Tom was not a boy to get muddled, or stay 
muddled. When he awoke in the morning, a little 
thinking made things very clear to his mind. He 
was himself, Tom Hart, but he was a very different 
boy from the Tom Hart he remembered tumbling 


yOHJV'S IDEAS 


37 


out of that bed the morning before. That Tom 
Hart was a decidedly ignorant, blind kind of a boy. 

I He lived in a crowded tenement, where he had lots 
of friends, and where there was always fun to be had 
in the street, day or night, especially night, and that 
was all he had ever thought of. To go on selling 
papers, to get bigger, to get in with the older gang, 
to do all the mischief he could, in a general way — 
he had never thought any further than that. 

He was still himself, Tom Hart, but there was new 
® life in him. He lived in a crowded tenement, but he 

II was n’t going to stay there always. He was a dirty, 
no-account boy, and Mother Tide and Mr. Mul- 
haley, and others, could tell him, and had told him, 

! what he was coming to — to some such pass as 
' Mother Tide’s Billy, or any of the other tenement- 
house boys who were bright and restless, had come 
to. But now it was to be different. 

His clothes were dry. They did not have the 
appearance of having been done up in a first-class 
laundry, he meditated, but they were comparatively 
I clean, and he felt clean in them. He felt ten degrees 
more honest than he had felt the day before. Yes- 
terday he had scarcely known, and had not cared, 
whether there was any world beyond his city or not, 
nor whether there had been any time and history 
before his own little life began, or not. To-day, he 
was tinglingly alive to the fact that his city was but 
I one, that there was more of his world, very far off. 


3 ^ 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


In time, there stretched back behind him a past, a 
shadowy, dim past, illuminated, beautified, made 
unspeakably grand by that Son of God who came to 
earth. And Tom had a yearning feeling of interest 
in, and kinship with, that past, and all that it meant 
of love and help ; for was not Jesus living, a boy, with 
him again ? The eager acceptance of the fact was a 
part of the promptitude and energy of his nature. 
All the hero worship, all the reverence of which any 
eager-hearted boy is capable, were bound over to 
this felt boy friend, who, to Tom, in some way still 
had that grandly awful destiny of his manhood to 
fulfil, even though in fact it had been accomplished, 
Tom knew not how long before. 

This boy was brave, strong, pure, helpful — had n’t 
Miss Roslyn said all that? Then Tom must be so, 
too. Was he clean and wholesome and true? Then 
Tom must be so, too. That was a long way to 
travel since yesterday. 

will, I will,” thought Tom, with set lips. 

‘‘What you thinking about, Tom?” asked John, 
who had been looking at him for some moments. 

“ I — I — I do n’t know,” hesitated Tom. 

He would have liked to tell John what he was 
thinking about, but he had no words. It was all 
new ground to him. He felt his impressions though 
he had not the ability to put them into speech. 

“I was thinking about that young lady and the 
lame lady and the man. They all talked so different.” 


JOHN^S IDEAS 


39 


What did they say? 

‘‘The lame lady said Jesus Christ was a doctor 
and helped her feel well.” 

“Where does he live?” 

“ I do n’t know,” said Tom, impatiently, recogniz- 
ing how different was the idea his words conveyed 
to John from the idea Miss Roslyn’s words conveyed 
to him. 

“ We might get him for Kathie, if we could see 
him and beg him,” said John, thoughtfully. 

“ Miss Roslyn, the young lady, said Jesus was the 
Son of God, and was born on earth a long time ago, 
and grew up and helped people, and died.” 

“Whatever did the lame lady mean, then?” 

“ They made out that by dying he was able to 
help lots more people than he did when he was 
alive.” 

“ Oh, get out.” 

“ I mean he could be around near people now, 
chirking them up if they would take heed of him, 
helping them strike out their own badness, and that 
when that was done people felt a sight better.” 

Quite a new light flashed over John’s face. “Why 
does he do this? ” 

“ I do n’t know. The young lady said anybody 
could tell — or in any church or Sunday-school we 
could find out !” 

“Tell some more.” 

Tom felt so baffled by the difference between his 


40 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


report of what he had heard and what he had 
understood them to say or mean, that he felt half 
angry. 

'' Tou tell him — help me — what shall I say ? ” he 
was conscious of inwardly begging. Then he went 
on : 

‘‘The lame lady seemed to feel that Jesus helped 
her just as he was when he was grown on earth. He 
left some words for her in a little book, and she took 
a heap of comfort in them — had it on a table. 
The man, he did n’t seem to talk much about his 
getting helped ; he talked about how you ought to 
know just how to tell all about what Jesus told be- 
fore, or did, and then tell it, or do it, or be it — a 
sort of a torch — oh, I do n’t seem to know what he 
did say, anyway.” 

“What did the young lady say? ” 

“ She said He was ready to just be your best 
friend and stay right with you, and if you ’d care to 
have him for a friend he’d stick by you right 
through, thick and thin ; only she said he was the 
kind of a boy, when he was a boy, that was straight 
and square and honest and true and brave and kind, 
and all them things, clean and all, and that other 
boys that really were around with him got to be 
that kind themselves.” 

“Was that the reason you took a swim and 
washed your things?” 

“ Yep.” 


yOHIV^S JDEAS 


41 


John’s face wore a really bright, happy look. 

“I’m awful glad you told me, Tom,” he said, 
softly. 

Tom’s eyes shone. He felt glad himself. 

“What I was thinking of, John,” he went on, 
“ was about that book, and that little lame girl, and 
! what all we can do for Kathie. Seem ’s though I ’d 
just been blind. If I did a jig for her when I was 
I in, I thought I did enough. If I had to sit in that 
' room all day, I would n’t just cry sometimes, I ’d 
I cry till I died, so ! ” 

“ I went to bed thinking about it,” admitted John. 
“ I thought and thought We do n’t hold out in no 
fancy store nor box factory, and if we did Kathie 
couldn’t make paper dolls no more than nothin’. 
Where ’d their heads come from, I’d like to know? 

I I thought of some things, though. Last night I 
I thought they were pretty good.” 

|i “John, you’re the boss hand when it comes to 
j thinking,” said Tom admiringly. “Out with it.” 

“Well, there’s that old German woman on the 
third landing ; you know they don’t mix in much yet, 
not bein’ here very long and bein’ so Germany. 
You know that white-headed baby; his name’s Han- 
shen or something like that, and the mother — she 
scrubs out some places up town — got me to watch 
him outdoors while he took some air. Well, when I 
took him back, the grandmother told me to come in, 
and she knit every minute. She said : “ Ich knit 


42 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


diese fiir das shop vas buys mine tings und pays me 
goot moneys, yah/’ 

John laughed softly at the recollection, and Torn 
doubled himself over in his endeavor not to laugh 
out loud, for they had not yet heard Mother Lide. 

Now if we could just get some of those things 
she had, and some yarn, you know, and then could 
get the old woman to sit up here and show Kathie 
how to knit and be company for her, while she was 
showing her, would n’t that be great? I thought 
maybe she would come for my tending the baby. I 
could take the baby down to the river-wall by the 
little park and it would be great if they’d trust me.” 

Tom slapped his knee. ‘'That’s the talk, John; 
and I ’ll just hustle selling papers. She shall have all 
the yarn and needles she wants. That beats paper 
dolls all holler. Dan made five dollars last week 
selling papers, and they do say Larry made seven. 
I know I can hustle a heap more ’n I have. Did you 
think of anything else?” 

“Yes, I did; and it won’t hurt about the knitting, 
either. I been hanging around that hothouse 
place, up by the statue, and I got an errand in there 
once, and I just seen all I could, and there was a 
clever sort of a man fussing around, and he told me 
a lot, neat ’s a pin. He showed me great, long, wide 
sort of shelves with a board around them, all full of 
little teenty bits of pots, and in the pots were little 
teenty bits of plants, some in bloom. Nearly all 


43 


f yOHN^S IDEAS 

I of them you could get for five cents each. Kathie’s 
j violet wasn’t but five cents; some he said were 
raised from seeds, and he said you could get a lot oi 
seeds for five cents. Now you know there’s not 
more than one or two plants in this whole tenement 
I beside the German woman’s ; while down in the Ital- 
; ian court, and it ’s ten hundred times nastier and 
dirtier than ours, nearly every window has got a pot 
I of flowers or something growing. 

“Now I thought you and I could put some shelves 
in our two windows — this window would make three, 
— and get all the little tins and cans and things — 
hunt for them around the court barrels you know — 
and we could set lots.” 

“I should think we could!” interjected Tom. 

“And then get dirt for her — any place they ’re 
building we could get some, and sand too — I saw 
lots of sand in the hothouse — and fill them up and 
buy some seeds. I’d just make an errand into that 
hothouse and find out all about the prettiest seeds 
and the dirt and water and all, I just would ; and 
Kathie could raise flowers, and if they were pretty 
and did well she could sell ’em right here in our 
tenement.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Tom, “I don’t believe there’s a 
child but could beg up five cents from his folks and 
get a plant. Cracky I We’d have a flower show, we 
would! We’d fix up the court, and all hands in, 
and sell out. We’d have doings. Remember our 


44 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


concert last summer? Ryan told me last summer 
he ’d hire me this summer down to his saloon some 
nights to do mouth organ and jew’s-harp specialties. 
I could make money that way. I ’ll just practise 
up.” 

John’s face wore the ghost of a smile. “Mr. Mul- 
haley said Mother Lide’s Billy was a regular draw 
down to Ryan’s one spell.” 

“That’s so; he did. I wish he ’d come back. I ’d 
like to see him.” 

“What you boys talking about?” said Mother 
Tide. “It’s buzz, buzz, buzz. Time you was off, 
Tom.” 

“All right ! Off I am, then. We ’ve got a big 
scheme for Kathie, Mother Tide. You’ll like it! ” 

“ Faith, Tom, I always thought you ’d the kind 
heart, but yesterday and to-day you ’re twice the 
boy you ever was before. Sure there ’s something 
about you almost gives me hopes of you.” 

Tom laughed, seized Mother Tide around the 
waist and danced her across the room, snatched his 
cap and calling “ Good-bye, Kathie,” dashed out the 
door. 

He was going to make a great day of this and sell 
more papers than he ever had before to buy the 
needles and yarn for Kathie. “ John beats all for 
getting up things,” he thought. “ He do n’t say 
nothin’, just sits around and thinks, and if you get 
him limbered up any, his talk ’s just no end interest- 


yOHN^S IDEAS 


45 


ing; no more like any of the rest of the boys than 
nothing in this world. They all like him, too.” 
i He had to begin his day as usual by getting his 
i breakfast at the eating-place he and a crowd of other 
! newsboys patronized. 

' Whew, aint he a dude ! ” 

‘‘When’d you git your shirt washed, Tommie? ” 
“ Where ’s that black rope gone you been wearing 
round your neck?” 

Clear the way for the white elephant.” 

Tom was considered a master hand at chaffing, and 
his answers elicited shouts of laughter. One after 
another finished such breakfasts as they could afford, 
and Tom went off with some of his especial cronies. 

Here, Tom, you ’re such a swell this morning 
I’ll give you this,” said a boy called Fatty, and he 
handed out to Tom a cigar stump he had found and 
treasured — an unusually fat, long one. 

And here ’s a light,” said another boy. 

Tom sucked and puffed and blew away with a fine 
assumption of airs and graces. He always had since 
he could remember. 

I can’t smoke no stumps outer the gutter,” said 
another boy, it just makes me sick every time. 
I ’ve shut my eyes and it ’s just the same.” 

Pshaw,” said Fatty, even when you buy ’em 
new right out the store, they ’re made out of just 
such stumps, nastier, dirtier ones, too — soaked right 
in gutter water.” 


46 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


Fatty was n’t the only one who knew that. 

Tom felt a shiver run through him. Clean, 
sweet, wholesome.’” ‘‘Oh, are You sick of me? 
I ’ll never do it again,” was the lightning-like 
thought. “ There, I Ve swore off. Here, Fatty, if 
you want it. Never going to smoke one of ’em 
again.” 

The boys thought it was part of Tom’s style, and 
they cheered him enthusiastically. 

Fact,” said Tom soberly, ‘‘ I ’ve got a new Friend 
that do n’t like any such dirty ways, so I ’ve swore 
off. Cracky, if there aint Dan just a sprintin’ off 
with his papers.” 

The boys made a simultaneous rush, and the work 
of the morning began. 

Whether it was Tom’s clean clothes or his extra 
determination, or what, he did n’t know, but he never 
had had a better run on papers. 

All the editions through the day sold well, so that 
when he went back to the tenement at night he 
could spare what he thought would be enough for 
John to get the needles and some yarn for Kathie to 
learn to knit on. Evidently John must be the one 
to lay out the money for that, for the German 
woman would tell him what to buy. 

Say, John, did you see her, the old Dutchy? ” 

“ Yes, Frau Kraf, she says call her, or something 
like that. I had the baby this morning and Frau 
Kraf said when we got the needles she would sit up 


yOHN'^S IDEAS 


47 


with Kathie and teach her if she learned easy and it 
did n’t take too much time. She said, ^ Die kleine 
Madchens nicht knit so gut like unser deutsche 
Madchens. Ganz bad b5se. Ich vill do some gut.’ 
Kathie ’s just crazy about it.” 

Just looka here ! Now you can buy them right 
away to-morrow. And I ’m going to get some 
more, too. I ’m going right over to Ryan’s and I ’m 
going to play this thing,” patting his mouth-organ, 

so ’st Ryan will call me in, and I won’t play for 
beers, neither; it’s going to be money.” 

John shrugged his shoulders. He did n’t like 
Ryan’s, but he was glad Tom would get some more 
money. 

After Tom had played snatches of some of the 
most popular street airs, Ryan himself appeared at 
the door, a stout, red-faced man in an apron that 
had once been white. He was going to put on his 
clean one later. Then the band was coming, and 
hilarity would run high. 

‘^Here, Tom, come in and play a while till the 
band tunes up. I’ll give you all the beer you want.” 

I ’ll come in and play, but I rather have money.” 

^'You’re too particular. Well, mebbe I ’ll give 
you a nickel or a dime if you draw.” 

Ryan’s was the most popular saloon for the court, 
and he wanted to keep it so. He had a good bar 
and fine lights, and in winter kept a warm, brilliantly 
lighted, lively place, where all that could loved to 


48 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


congregate. In summer it was a larger place and 
better ventilated than any other, and the music and 
other entertainments drew an equally large crowd. 
There were not many in the saloon, as most of the 
families were still at their suppers or lounging out in 
the street. 

Tom played his liveliest airs. The men praised 
him, and before he had played long a crowd of boys 
had gathered around the door, and the habitues were 
filing in. Tom did not play all the time, but whether 
he played or rested he watched the familiar faces. 
They had acquired a new interest. Mr. Mulhaley 
sat in his regular place with a mug of something be- 
side him. Summer and winter he always sat there 
and grew more or less stupid until he was dutifully 
escorted home by his son. But the younger Mul- 
haley, rumor was having it, was beginning to drink 
to the drunken stage himself, and he could not stand 
it as his father did. It made him noisy and irritable. 
Tom had a vague feeling of pity for the younger 
man as he stood there, a fine, tall, strong fellow, with 
a particularly kind face. His wife, Molly Mulhaley, 
was the prettiest young woman in the tenement, and 
all the women had said she ‘Mid fine” to get Joe 
Mulhaley, for he was the man to make the best hus- 
band in the whole ward. But now they shook their 
heads, and said, “Joe was like to be as bad or worse 
than the rest.” 

Then there was all the tough set of young men. 


yOHAT'S IDEAS 


49 


j|: the fighters, and brawlers, and lawbreakers, the set 
I that had taken the place of the set Mother Lide’s 
I Billy got in with. They made trouble, and Ryan 
I always had to be watching them, but they were 
I good customers. Then there was the general run 
\ of men in the tenement, who spent a rather large 
I proportion of all they earned at Ryan’s, paying reg- 
ularly, though other bills did not always fare so well. 
And there were some women and as many small boys 
as could be allowed in. Tom knew them all, but 
things looked strangely different to him. 

There was Heidigger — and his little girl was so 
sick everybody knew she would die. Tom thought 
indignantly that Heidigger might have taken the 
dime he pulled out so pat for his beer to buy some 
oranges or ice-cream for the girl, for everybody knew 
she was burning up with fever. And there was 
Stokes, whose wife had a little new baby, and Tom 
felt mad to see him standing there drinking. For 
Stokes was out of work and everybody knew it. 

The band had not begun yet, and already Joe 
Mulhaley’s voice was getting louder. Tom knew the 
signs; he was in for a regular break-out. Molly 
Mulhaley must have known some other signs, too, for 
Tom suddenly saw her face at the door, — such a 
pretty, anxious face as it stared in at Joe, seeing noth- 
ing else, though his flushed, excited head did not 
turn toward her. 

Tom’s rising wrath reached its culmination. He 
4 


50 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


had seen these things ever since he had come to 
that tenement; now they looked so different. He 
felt all through him how they must look to that 
other Boy who came to earth to help people away 
from just such things, away from their worst selves. 
He knew how those confident, loving eyes would 
darken with pity at such sorry sights. 

^‘And you ’ll have none of it, too, Tom Hart ! ” 
Tom apostrophised himself, jamming his mouth- 
organ into his pocket with unnecessary force. ‘^And 
you here playing your old mouth-organ to get ’em 
to come in ! A pretty friend you are ! I ’ll show 
you a thing or two! And, Joe Mulhaley, you’re 
coming out now, or I ’ll know the reason why ! ” 

Like a flash he was at Joe’s side, and, seizing him 
by both wrists, and fixing his eyes with a steady 
glance on Joe’s, he said, in a low, excited voice, 
though no one else noticed him : 

Joe Mulhaley, you ’re coming right now with me 
this minute. Do n’t say a word ; Molly wants you, 
do you understand? Molly wants you.” 

Joe was astonished enough, but Tom’s manner 
quieted him, and he went. 

Here, Molly,” said Tom, here ’s Joe.” 

‘‘ God bless you, Tom !” Molly’s voice trembled, 
and she held desperately to Joe’s arm. ‘'O Joe, I’m 
so frightened I You won’t leave me again, will you, 
Joe?” 

*‘Poor Molly ! ” Joe said, in a tone more like him- 


JOHN^S IDEAS 51 

self. I ’ll be all right when I get some water, 
Molly.” 

^‘Well, I ’ll never go in there again — not for fool- 
ishness, anyway,” vowed Tom, as he followed along 
after them. 


CHAPTER IV 


A PICNIC 

'' He said you had to have sand, too, did he?” 

Yes, and black dirt.” 

Tom and John were walking rapidly, dragging a 
box wagon and an old fire-shovel after them. They 
were going to a street where men were digging 
down for the foundations of a new row of dwellings. 
John had gone to his hothouse, as he called it, and 
had waited until he saw the man who had been so 
kind to him before. 

“Please,” said John, his earnest face quite aglow, 
“please, IVe got fifteen cents, and I want to get 
some things, and I do n't know what ; and if you 
would tell me, and tell me about dirt, and all, 
I ’d pay you the fifteen cents for the things, and 
work, anything you wanted me to, for what you told 
me.” To say so much wasn’t in the least like John, 
and he was quite breathless. 

“Losh, laddie, but you ’re a talker ! ” said the man. 
“ Come, now, and I’ll show you. What will you be 
doing with what you get?” 

“Kathie — she’s a lame little girl” — John was 
determined not to have his scheme fall through for 
lack of a tongue, — “she’s going to have some plants, 
52 


A PICNIC 


53 


: and we ’re going to sell ’em to the tenement children 

for her, and so we want things that won’t die easy, 
and have nice, pretty flowers. And we’ve got a lot 
I of little cans and things, and you said you could get 

, a lot of seeds for five cents ; so we want to get seeds, 

’cause we ’d only get three plants for fifteen cents. 
Do you know now?” 

know, I know,” nodded the man. 

John thought his red face and red hair beautiful, 

I and that his smile was a guerdon of success. 

^^Now, then, laddie, we’ll be walkin’ in. You and 
I ’ll see what we can do ; but I ’ll be looking at your 
1? fifteen cents first.” 

John promptly handed over the fifteen cents, and 
they went into a house similar to the one he had 
been in before. 

“Now, then, I ’ll give ye the full benefit o’ my 
opinion. I ’m thinking if you raise some from the 
seed for children to keep you ’ll be doin’ well to have 
some mignonette ; a little pot of it will make a 
whole room sweet, and many a sick body has 
been comfortit with a bit pot of mignonette. And 
I ’m thinkin’ some sweet alyssum will be another 
favorite, a free bloomer, and a sweet, pure bit of a 
flower. I ’m aye fond of a bit of sweet alyssum. 
Then, if you ’ll mind what I ’ll tell you, you can 
raise some sweet violets, and some bits of pansies ; 
they’re braw sellers. Are you thinkin’ with me?” 

“ I just am ! ” 


54 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


“Then there’s geraniums. Now I ’ll fix you up 
with a many little slips an’ you ’ll plant them and 
root them yoursel’. Tak tent now whilst I tell you.” 

The result of it all was that John had started off as 
happy as any boy in the city — more a real boy than 
he had ever been before — with his seeds in exactly 
the right shape, and his wet slips in a pasteboard 
box, and his head full of instructions as to earth, 
light, air, and water. 

Since Tom had told him what the Roslyns had 
said, John had felt as though life was quite another 
matter. New things had opened up for him, too ; 
not as for Tom, but in a way that suited his needs. 
The loneliness had dropped away from him. He 
was as sure that Some One cared for him, and loved 
him, and was with him as it was possible to feel. It 
was worth everything to John. He had never been 
able to fit into his surroundings, and now there 
seemed to have come near to him a presence capa- 
ble of bringing peace and a quiet happiness, driving 
out that hurt, aching feeling always present with him, 
that had stamped itself on his lonesome little face. 

As soon as possible Tom and John started to get 
the earth. Jim’s box cart had been beneficently 
loaned for the occasion, Tom having promised to 
teach Jim an undercut in return. To get that cart 
full of earth and sand and fill up all the little cans 
and jars they had gathered was the important feature 
just then. 


A PICNIC 


55 

‘‘They’ll send us off when we begin to get any 
earth.” 

“Let ’em send !” was Tom’s contemptuous answer. 

“They’ll put the police on us.” 

“Shucks!” 

But, fearful of some untoward end to their under- 
taking, Tom marched boldly up to the policeman 
nearest the lots. 

“Say, mister,” making his very best bow, “we 
want to get some dirt where they’re digging for to 
plant some flowers in. Won’t that be all right? You 
won’t send us off, will you ? That ’s all we want.” 

“ Oh, if you do n’t sass anybody I guess you ’ll get 
away with it all right,” grinned the policeman. 

Cheered by that form of consent they went to work 
with their fire-shovel until they had two thirds of a 
load of fair-looking black soil. 

The next thing was to go to a place where they 
were laying a brick walk and get some sand. That 
was quite a different matter. Tom had never seen 
a case yet where a boy taking sand got off unchal- 
lenged. 

“We ’ll just try it. I ’ll ask the boss.” 

When they reached the place they stood and 
watched the brick laying. .The foreman eyed them 
and their cart sharply. 

“ See here, now, you boys need n’t begin nigging 
that sand I Now understand that!” 

“Oh, say,” began Tom, “we don’t want to nig 


56 


ms BEST FRIEND 


your sand, but you just let me fill your pail full of 
good, cold, fresh water up at the fountain. I ’ll do it 
if you ’ll give me enough sand to fill up this here 
wagon ; it won’t take much. We ’re going to plant 
flowers.” 

The water pail had only a small amount of warm, 
dusty water in it, and the foreman agreed very readily 
to the bargain. 

’ll help fetch it,” said John, ‘‘if we can leave the 
wagon.” 

“Oh, your wagon will be all right,” volunteered 
one of the men. 

So in the course of time two very hot boys 
marched triumphantly into the court dragging a 
full load of earth. Well knowing the ordeal that 
awaited them, they picked up the box cart bodily, 
and made a dash up-stairs, a successful one as it 
proved, and landed their cart of earth in their own 
room before Kathie’s happy eyes. 

Kathie, full of joyful anticipation, her knitting- 
needles picking a careful way in and out of some 
blue yarn, had been chattering ceaselessly to Frau 
Kraf, while fat, white-haired Hans pounded the floor 
with a spoon. 

Frau Kraf had assiduously taught Kathie, and had 
sat with her every day since she began to learn. 
The higher room with its fairer outlook was soothing 
to the old woman, who had quite a horror of the ten- 
ement. Just as soon as her son could manage it they 


A PICNIC 


57 


were going to have a little place outside the city with 
a little garden, and that would be living indeed. It 
i was a queer compound which she spoke, and much 
of it was Greek to Kathie ; but how she enjoyed it all ! 
The little house and its little garden was a beautiful 
reality to her, and she in turn talked quite as rapidly 
I of the flowers she was to raise in the three windows 
on the clumsy rows of shelves the boys had already 
put up. 

The boys mixed up the soil and filled the cans, 
I and Kathie, anxiously, and with little shrieks of ex- 
citement, planted the seeds. She planted the slips, 
too, under John’s dignified tutorship. 

When all the seeds were planted and all the slips 
set, the boys placed the little cans on the higher 
shelves, and Kathie placed the cans with the slips in 
them on the lower shelves. Then Tom with scarcely 
suppressed pride, said, ^‘Now wait a minute and see 
what you see ! ” 

He went into the other little room and came out 
with a worn, stubby paint-brush and a little old paint- 
keg. Then, with a flourish, while John looked on 
! with a pleased smile, and Kathie’s eyes grew rounder 
than ever, he dabbed some nice little splashes of 
greenish paint on all the pots. He contrived to 
make it cover most of them, and the gala appear- 
ance of the windows was much enhanced. 

“O boys, it is prettier than the story, and I thought 
nobody ever had such pretty things as the story.” 


53 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


“Pshaw!” said Tom. “We can have things twice 
as pretty as that story ! Why, John and I will bring 
up the finest pictures you ever saw for the wall ; 
pretty ones, none of your comics.” 

“I’ve thought of some things; Kathie and I can J 
make them,” said John quietly, “when I can get the 
things and have time.” 

Tom laughed. “You’re kept busier than you used 
to be, John. You’re more open-like and don’t act 
so scared off.” 

“You give me the lift-up, Tom,” and John flushed 
slightly. 

“Makes a difference to know who’s who, don’t it, 
John?” 

Kathie was following the conversation eagerly. 

“ He helps me, too,” she put in, “just like your lame 
lady said, Tom. I do just what little Emily did in 
the story.” 

“ That ’s good news, Kathie. I knew something 
made you mighty bright and cheerful, but I thought it 
was Frau Kraf, and the knitting, and the seeds, and all.”. 

“Oh, it’s everything, I guess.” 

Tom did not quite see through it all, but he' 
shrugged his shoulders and whistled away con- 
tentedly when he thought of it. “ It ’s all right for, 
other people to be helped along by You any way 
they can, but I ’m gladder than I can say that you 
keep with me the way you are,” he thought, rev-^ 
erently and very lovingly. 


A PICNIC 


59 


He could not help noticing sometimes, himself, 
li how differently he looked at things, simply because 
he had come to think instantly how his Friend would 
look at things. He and John were sitting on the 
: tenement-house steps one afternoon. Tom was rest- 
ing, after a scrap with Jim. The court and street, as 
usual, swarmed with children. They were playing, 
and having a good time in their way, but it was 
a very impeded way. There wasn’t much room. 
Teams and wagons broke up every game almost as 
soon as it was begun, and it was a common occur- 
rence for an excited mother or older child to rush 
out among the horses to rescue some inexperienced 
wanderer. Some of the children sat listlessly around, 
overcome by the heat, but more kept up a constant 
running and scrambling. 

There was Jenny. She was so pale and little. 
Dick Madden lay stretched out on the pavement, 
stirring uneasily, and three of the Corrigan children 
were crying at once ; and Sally was minding a very 
cross baby, and looking wistfully at a group of girls 
playing jacks. They ought to have more room. 
Tom did not think of anything better than the bare, 
trodden, narrow playground attached to the school 
where he used to go. He did not know much about 
playgrounds, but he felt that would be better. And 
there was the little park ; that was n’t so bad. Part 
of the grass the police let you go on, though it was 
generally covered with men lying down. But there 


6o 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


were the walks and the pond with fish in it, and the 
other pond with the bridge and the boat. None of 
the children, he had noticed particularly, could go 
there alone, except Sally, and she never could get 
the baby there. 

'' Say, John,’' said Tom, in an excited voice, I’ll 
just make Jim fetch his box wagon, and let’s take 
these little tots to the little park ; they can walk it 
all well enough ; and we ’ll put the baby in the 
wagon.” 

“ Mebbe they’d let me take Hans,” said John. 
‘‘ That ’s an awful strong baby-wagon they ’ve got. 
It would hold Kathie, easy.” 

Bully for you !” and Tom slapped John enthusi- 
astically on the back. ^'You go see, and I’ll man- 
age Jim.” 

Frau Kraf would not let Hans go in such a crowd, 
but her kindly old German face lighted up as it 
occurred to her that Kathie might ride in the wagon. j 
So the stout old concern was taken down-stairs, and' 
then Tom and John made a chair of their hands, and' 
carried the ecstatic Kathie down. Her reddish curls 
fairly bobbed with excitement, and her blue eyes 
danced. ] 

Jim had agreed to go, and Sally’s baby was sit-j 
ting contentedly in the box wagon, while Sally wasj 
maturely pulling down and straightening out th^ 
three little Corrigans. ;| 

‘‘They can just take their bit supper with ’em;! 


A PICNIC 


6i 


! they ’ll be afther getting hungry,” said Mrs. Corrigan, 
\ and she handed them a bag of bread and cheese, 
i with many injunctions to the oldest not to eat it all 
up himself. Jenny’s mother bestowed on her a slab 
1 of dry gingerbread, and Dick Madden, after a search 
r in his quarters, brought down a bag containing some 

t suspicious-looking apples, and one cracker. Sally 
had her baby’s bottle, and a piece of bread for her- 
; self. 

' It’ll be a regular jamboree picnic,” shouted Jim, 
and he raced off to his mother. Jim’s people were 
known as the most extravagant livers in the tene- 
ment. So when Jim came back, bragging that he 
had some lobster, and some pickles, and some bread 
and molasses, he was gazed upon with a sigh of 
admiring envy. 

Kathie began to look somewhat crestfallen, and 
John was in some doubt, himself. 

“ Do n’t'you mind, Kathie,” said Tom, in his mas- 
i terful way. ‘‘Soon as I ’ve got you all out there, I ’ll 
1 have to go back and sell the next edition, but I ’ll 
slick it through all right, or sell out to some other 
feller, and I ’ll bring some things for us.” 

Kathie’s eyes lost their faint shadow, and the 
excited little party started on its way. They picked 
out a good place in the park, and Tom, binding 
them all by a solemn oath not to eat until his return, 
dashed off for business. 

The best success attended him, and when he 


62 


n/S BEST FRIEND 


returned, it was with enough stale buns for their 
three, and with several very good pieces of chicken, 
and some fried veal. 

'' Why, Tom ! ” cried Sally. How could you 
get such good things?” 

By knowin’ how. I went down to our restaurant, 
where I know one of the waiters, an awful good fel- 
low, and he fetched me out some left-overs, cheap. 
They’re all right, too. Now, everybody sit down; 
we ’re going to eat. Now, no hurryin’ ! Say now, 
Jim, you eat your lobster and bread and molasses, 
and you give me your two pickles, and I ’ll give you 
a piece of veal, and I ’ll cut the pickles so everybody 
can have some.” 

Jim agreed, having conceived a great desire for 
some of Tom’s veal. Then Tom cut the pickles 
into little pieces, and each child received a piece with 
the loudest expressions of satisfaction. Tom took his 
other piece of veal and cut that into the tiniest frag- 
ments, and everybody received a piece of that. As j 
Sally had nothing but bread, he gave her a piece of 
chicken. He gave Jenny a bun and divided up her 
gingerbread and Dick’s apples between the two. 
And finally, tolerably well satisfied with the equality 
of the meal and the contented faces of the partici- 
pants, he permitted them to begin eating. 

They buzzed and champed and laughed, and had j 
a time of such hilarious enjoyment that a good many I 
of the loungers on the free grass turned to gaze with 


REGULAR JAMBOREE PICNIC. 





A PICNIC 


63 


a sympathetic wistfulness. Kathie was sure she had 
never eaten anything so good as her bun and chicken, 
and Sally was equally contented. 

When not a crumb remained they still had time to 
wander around the two ponds, no tongue silent a 
minute, before they went back to the tenement, hav- 
ing had an experience that would serve as a subject 
of conversation for many a day. 


CHAPTER V 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 

Tom did not think he had been asleep half a min- 
ute when he felt Mother Tide shaking him and heard 
her quavering voice saying : “ Oh, Tommie dear, and 
won’t you be after going down to the dispensary for 
the doctor? Kathie’s ailin’ so bad I can’t stand it 
any longer ! ” 

Tom tumbled out. He never had much to put 
either on or off, and away he went with a parting, 
‘‘I’ll hurry like lightning. Don’t worry; she’ll be 
all right ! ” 

He knew it was very late, for there were no strag- 
glers. All seemed to be quiet as he hurried down 
the stairway. A woman’s scream sounded from one 
of the lower rooms. 

“Finnigan’s in from Ryan’s,” thought Tom vindic- 
tively, as he hurried past. The street was strange in 
its unwonted quiet — a quiet that induced Tom to 
look upward at the narrow strip of deep sky between 
the high housetops. It flashed across him that in 
his street he had never looked up there before. A 
happy thrill went through him as he thought that it 
was because of his Friend that it could mean some- 
thing to him. Ryan’s saloon was still brilliantly 
64 


A MIDNIGHT AD VENTURE 65 

lighted, and from the sounds Tom thought the night’s 
doings must be at the climax. 

'Tt isn’t right,” he muttered, clinching his little 
brown fists as he darted past. He was nearly at the 
dispensary and ran faster still. Dr. Gray might be 
out, but he hoped not. He had had to go for Dr. 
Gray before. Dr. Gray was a woman he liked. He 
had always felt responsive to the steady, kindly 
glance she had given him when she had seen him. 
He liked the sound of her voice. He liked her 
whole-souled way of taking care of people. 

Breathless, he rang the dispensary bell. Some one 
called down the tube and asked what he wanted. He 
told, and added, “Tell her Mother Tide sent, and she 
don’t send for nothing.” 

Yes, Dr. Gray would be right over, and Tom, still 
panting, started slowly for home. He went home by 
a different way, past the great, silent warehouse. 

It was well lighted on one side by the street lights, 
and the night watchman was sedately pacing his 
rounds. Tom liked it. He had a dim feeling that 
this stillness of the world, this quiet of the night, was 
a sort of homage to the Maker, and yet that the 
Ruler of it all was glad to be a little boy with him, 
knowing all things and powerful in all, but neverthe- 
less a little, quiet, happy boy, with pure eyes and a 
most loving heart. The warm, chivalrous, reveren- 
tial spirit in Tom’s small body swelled at the thought. 

He reached the darkest part of the warehouse wall 
5 


66 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


where there was a deep embrasure. Far down at the 
other end, but plainly seen by the light, was the 
watchman. 

Two men moved cautiously out of the embrasure. 

Tom saw at a glance what the men had, and what 
they had been doing. His impulse was to shout for 
the watchman. But the men took in the situation as 
quickly as he did. By a desperate but clever move- 
ment one of the men stifled Tom just as he had 
opened his mouth. Like a flash he was turned over, 
his mouth gagged, and he was being carried swiftly 
along — ever so far it seemed to him — and by a wind- 
ing way. The men went down some steps, at last, 
and he was unceremoniously stood up and ungagged. 

He was in a small room lit by two lanterns and 
lumbered up with a little of everything. 

The men looked silently at Tom and he grinned | 
back. He couldn’t help it. 

‘‘Well, I never! What’s your name?” 

The man who spoke was a young, slim fellow with 
reddish hair and blue eyes that looked to Tom like 
old friends. The other man was somewhat older and 
heavier, and wore a short beard. 

“Tom Hart. What ’s yours? ” 

“Answer what ’s spoke to you ! ” put in the other 
man. “ How old are you ? ” 

“Twelve.” 

“What were you going to call out for, you imp?” 

“ It looked as though the watchman ought to know.” 


A MIDiVIGHT ADVENTURE 


67 


^^None of your business, sure.’^ 

Tom wasn’t sure that it was just at that minute. 
^‘I’m glad you didn’t get caught,” turning to the 
younger man. 

‘^Well, you ’re a nice little cove.” 

‘'Come, Reddy,” said the older man; “tie him up 
and come on. If you ’re tied up in here you ’ll 
I know what it feels like, and won’t be so fly next time. 
Tie him tighter ! ” 

I “Tie him yourself. Brown, if you know so much 
! about it. No use hurting a little rat like him, 
though.” 

I Brown took some cloth and bits of rope and tied 
I Tom so that he sat on something that felt like a roll 
I of cloth. The man gave two or three rather vicious 
f twists as he tied, 
i “ Oh, come ! ” protested Reddy. 

|l “ He ought to be made to feel it,” muttered Brown. 

; “Look where we are, now! ” 

After he was satisfied with his knots, they went 
out, leaving Tom in the blackest darkness he had 
^ ever experienced. 

i “ Here ’s a pretty go,” he chuckled, and twisting 
! himself into as comfortable a position as possible, he 
was asleep in less than five minutes. 

The next thing he knew some one was prodding 
him in no very gentle fashion, and he opened his 
eyes to find light enough to see by coming in 
through one little ground glass window light, up near 


68 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


the ceiling. A woman at least as old as Mother 
Lide, but of a larger, sparer type, was berating him 
indignantly. 

''A pretty catch ! A bit of a boy ! I won’t have 
it! He thinks to ride over me willy-nilly. No 
swag, no nothin’. I say, wake up ! ” 

‘^All right, I ’m awake,” said Tom good-naturedly. 
How ’d you get here? ” 

Brown and Reddy fetched me,” promptly. 

‘‘ More work for me and no pay ! A boy ! What 
did they bring you here for? ” 

‘‘ I ’d like to know myself. Why do n’t you undo 
me and let me out? ” 

‘‘ That ’s what I will,” angrily. Why can’t they 
take advice? Nothing goes through since he’s got 
to going on his own hook.” 

“ Is Brown your son? ” hazarded Tom. 

Certain, worse luck to him ! What you asking 
questions for? Where ’d they go? ” 

Give it up.” 

The woman was untying him about as ungently as 
her son had tied him up. 

‘‘This will raise a pretty row,” she went on, mostly 
to herself. “ I do n’t care ; it will show them I 
rule this concern yet. Here, get you gone now,” 
pushing him through the door into a dark box of an 
entry and then up a low flight of stairs to a lighted 
hall, and out of an outside door right onto the sidewalk. 

It was evidently very early. He stood there a 


A Af/DAYGHT ADVEATTirRE 


69 


moment winking and stretching, and wondering 
' where he was, when around the corner dashed two 
men right to Tom’s side, and, as one opened the 
door, the other, with a growl of recognition, knocked 
Tom into the doorway so that he fell sideways into 
the hall. The door was slammed shut, Tom was 
hustled back down the same stairs he had just been 
I hustled up, and shoved again into the door of the 
: room where he had spent the night. The old 
woman was' in there. 

What now? ” she cried. 

Matter enough,” growled Brown, though he was 
I shaking with excitement. ‘‘ They ’re after us. 
They ’re tracking us here, too,” with a savage glance 
at Reddy. What did you let that brat out for? 
, If he had been standing out there now, our game 
would be up.” 

Reddy, Tom observed, was deftly going around 
the room and taking various small things he wanted. 
Some he put inside his shirt, some things that 
seemed to be bills or other money he slipped into 
the lining of his belt. Brown began to make similar 
i preparations, but he seemed nervously uncertain, 

' started at every sound, and finally cried out that 
' they must go. 

! I ’ll kill that boy first, though,” he cried, and 
! pulled out a knife. The man looked dangerous; 

evidently his mother and Reddy half believed him, 

; for they darted at him. 


70 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


After the first hot throb of terror Tom felt 
curiously unconcerned. ‘‘I won’t shame You. I’ll 
be brave like You ’d be,” he was half unconsciously 
saying to his unseen Friend. 

“ You ’re crazy,” said Brown’s mother. Do you 
want to hang? ” 

“ We ’ll take him right along with us, Brown,” said 
Reddy soothingly, then he can’t break. Come on, 
let ’s make a dash for it.” 

Brown was so evidently all but uncontrollable that 
the risk of leaving the room seemed as nothing to 
letting him remain in it. 

The old woman went first. Brown followed, and 
Reddy kept tight hold of Tom. 

'' You ’re in for it,” he whispered. Just keep 
right along with me without squealing, and you ’ll 
get out all right.” 

Tom had no disposition to resist, and no ability 
to, as Reddy’s grip was no light matter. Up the 
stairs they went, clear to the housetop, up the 
ladder through the trap, and out onto the roof, and 
then swiftly along that roof, and three more like it; 
then a ten-foot drop, and after several roofs more a 
climb up loosened bricks, apparently a well-known 
place. 

Once Reddy cautiously looked over the parapet 
into the street below but drew back suddenly. He 
thought there was something unusual in the crowd 
he saw gathered at that hour. 


A MWmGHT ADVENTURE 


71 


Then came the place where evidently they had 
been used to descending. A piece of rope coiled 
around a chimney let them down to a fire-escape, 
and down they went ; then a drop to the roof of an 
outbuilding into a yard, over a fence, and into an alley. 

Tom was agile enough and about as daring as a 
boy could be, but he thought he must have been in 
a dozen different ^^ieces by the time he reached the 
alley. If Reddy had not helped him once, he was 
sure he would have fallen, and he looked up grate- 
fully at the tense young face beside him. 

Reddy smiled slightly. ''You’ve got sand,” he 
whispered. " Keep your nerve ; Brown ’s so near 
crazy he ’ll sure get us into a scrape.” 

" Stop jawing,” said Brown fiercely, turning 
around. "Now it’s for Jay’s and then the open,” 
and he went swiftly on. 

Brown’s actions seemed particularly foolish to 
Tom, for any one could see he was trying to escape 
from something. Reddy shrugged his shoulders 
and hurried after. The streets were still quiet and 
they gained the desired place without notice. Down 
into a basement room they went, where an old man 
was just bestirring himself for the day. 

" Broke ! ” blurted out Brown. Something of his 
fear left him down there. " Drink ! quick ! ” he 
said to the man, who at once handed him a black 
bottle such as Tom had been accustomed to look at 
as the very coat of arms of toughdom. 


72 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


Brown took a deep draught and Reddy was evi- 
dently expecting his turn. 

‘‘Don’t,” whispered Tom; “it’s that ails him 
now — the fool ! ” 

After a second’s irresolution Reddy decided as 
Tom wished, while Brown, saying, “ More for me,” 
drank again. Then he was straightway quite blus- 
tering, and described something of the difficulty they 
were in, though in such language that Tom could 
understand very little of it. Then he proceeded to 
change his clothes for those of a ditch digger. 
Reddy made similar changes, each took an old 
shovel, and, deciding that Tom was all right as he 
was, they started out again. 

By the time houses and people looked fairly wide 
awake and ready for the business of the day, they 
were in a distinctly suburban part of the city. Milk- 
wagons, truck-wagons, loads of all sorts of things 
destined for the use of the city dwellers, rumbled 
monotonously citywards. The road became a mere 
country road, the houses farmhouses, and, when 
Tom was feeling footsore and particularly empty, 
Brown called a halt by a large oak-tree. The red roof 
of a comfortable farmhouse showed at no great dis- 
tance, and the large barns were nearly opposite them. 

“You, bub, you,” and Brown made a sweep 
through the air with his shovel at Tom, “ you go up 
to that house and beg a breakfast for all three of us, 
do you hear? ” 



“YOU MOVE NOW, WIIL YOU 





A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


73 


I won’t do it,” flamed out Tom. Begging never 
had been in his line and he was n’t going to begin 
now. 

Confound you ! ” Brown made an angry thrust 
with the shovel with the intention of hitting him, but 
Tom dodged. 

‘‘You move now, will you?” 

“No.” 

Brown seemed to get a new idea. 

“ I ’m not going to carry that shovel any further, 
that’s certain,” and He flung it into a clump of 
bushes over the fence: 

“ Now, Reddy, you watch that boy. No gettin’ 
away. Remember, I mean what I say.” The look 
he gave Reddy was a sufficient endorsement of his 
words. Then he slumped off toward the farmhouse. 

“ Say, Reddy, come on and let ’s leave him,” 
urged Tom. 

Reddy looked at him curiously. 

“ There ’s got to be lots taken out of you yet, 
Tom.” There was something almost pitying in his 
voice. “I’ve tried to leave him, but I didn’t dare, 
and that ’s the fact. He ’d kill me next time he saw 
me, and that next time would come mighty quick, 
too. I used to think he was a great man.” 

“He’s a coward! He’s a bully ! He’s as. bad as 
he can be, and he would n’t dare a thing except 
where he had the upper hand ! ” 

Reddy shrugged his shoulders. 


74 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


‘'Not denyin’ it, pardncr, but he’ll dare a heap 
when he has the upper hand, and that ’s what he ’s 
got of us ! ” 

“ I ’m goin’ now.” 

“No you ’re not ! ” and Reddy promptly had him 
in a grip that was no childish matter. “You might 
as well stop that first as last. I ’ve nothin’ against 
you, and so far as I can come between you and 
Brown, I will. But he ’s determined to have you stay 
with us, and stay you shall. not going to let 

you go, and the sooner you bow down to it, the easier 
for both of us.” 

“ Well, I wish ’t you had more grit, though. We 
could do him as neat as a pin.” 

“ I know him, sonny,” was the brief reply. 

Brown came back in a very good humor. He had 
half a cold pork pie, some corn bread, and an apple 
pie. It looked delicious beyond description to 
Tom. 

“ Pitch in, Reddy. You, bub, you set there and 
watch us eat. Do n’t you move.” 

Reddy undertook to hand Tom a piece of corn 
bread. 

“ No you do n’t,” said Brown. “ He can set and 
watch like I told him.” 

It was hard watching. Tom felt as though his boy 
Friend were looking at him with sorrowful, sympa- 
thetic eyes, grieved that he was so hungry. 

“ Pshaw, taint nothin’ ; do n’t You mind,” Tom 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


75 

found himself saying inwardly. I ain’t much hun- 
gry ; do n’t you be worryin’ yourself about me.” 

When the meal was finished, there was still some 
food left and Brown wrapped it up and tied it to his 
belt. Then he lay down. He was evidently very 
much used up. If he had been temporarily invigor- 
ated by his liquor it was now overcoming him. Red- 
dy, much slighter and less strong, was able to go on 
and was keenly aware of the necessity of their doing 
so. He had objected to their stopping for more than 
necessary rest in the first place. But Brown was un- 
able to proceed. With purpling face he lay there 
breathing heavily, and was immediately in a heavy, 
stupid sleep. 

“Now won’t you go?” pleaded Tom. 

“It’s risky staying,” said Reddy, “but I ’m not go- 
ing to leave him here to be nabbed alone.” 

“I believe you ’re just luny.” 

Reddy laughed. “See here, Tom, if you’ll give 
me your word of honor to come right back here to 
me, no faking, I ’ll let you go and get you something 
to eat any way you like.” 

“All right ! ” was the answer given with surprising 
alacrity. 

He went through the fence, took Brown’s discard- 
ed shovel, and kept along inside the fence until he 
came to a stile. Standing on that he could see a 
boy, not very far off, hoeing. He walked toward the 
boy. “ Hello.” 


76 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


“Hello,” returned the boy, stopping his hoeing. 

“ Say, don’t you want this shovel?” 

The lad was one of those boys who are always 
itching to make things ; every bit of iron or wire or 
string held marvelous possibilities. He eyed the 
shovel with favor. If he could have a shovel to do 
as he pleased with he certainly would not dig. He 
would make something with it. 

“Yep.” 

“ I ’ll give it to you if you can give me something 
to eat for it — something real filling.” 

The boy looked at him suspiciously. “ No use 
going to our house for something to eat. Mother’s 
mad as a hornet. A tramp stopped there a little 
while ago and she gave him some corn bread, and 
he stole a pork pie we were going to have for dinner 
and an apple pie. No use.” 

“ I ’m sorry,” said Tom, holding onto his shovel. 
“ If you ’d get me something I ’d give you the shovel, 
but if you can’t, I ’ll have to try to trade it somewhere 
else. Where ’s the next house?” 

The boy’s face brightened. “ If you ’ll wait right 
here I ’ll go to the next house. It ’s my aunt’s, and 
I guess I can get you something. You could n’t sell 
her the shovel, sure, but I guess I can get the stuff.” 

“Will it take long?” 

“Not very; I ’ll hurry.” 

“All right. I ’ll wait just as long as I can.” 

Tom was beginning to think his empty little 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE 


77 


stomach would be the death of him when the boy 
appeared, hot and pleased. 

Gimme the shovel. Sit down here and eat, 
can’t you? It’s good!” 

And it was good. Tom had suffered from hunger 
before and had learned that it was necessary to begin 
very slowly when nearly famished. He did his best 
now but he would have preferred to have bolted it 
all at once. 

Here, I ’ll give you a drink out of my bottle. 
It ’s oatmeal water. My aunt, she fixes me a bottle 
every day when they make me hoe, or do things.” 

Tom took a drink and he was as grateful a boy 
as there was in that neighborhood. It was a re- 
lief to him to feel that his boy friend Jesus did 
not have to bear a vicarious burden of hunger any 
longer. 

^‘What’s your name?” he asked, scarcely taking 
his eyes from the spread before him. 

''Jed. What ’s yours?” 

"Tom. Say, this is boss. If ever I get a chance 
I ’ll come and thank you later. What ’s your last 
name?” 

"Cooper. Is it good?” 

"/^it!” 

Tom could n’t talk much. Corn bread and fried 
bacon, and two fried eggs, and a great slab of cherry 
pie — such doings I He wished for John and Kathie. 

" I never had such good eating ! Wish ’t I had a 


78 


HIS BEST FRIEJVD 


gold watch to give you, ’stead of that old shovel. 
Got to go now.” 

'' Here ; you can have another drink. I ’ll go get 
some more for me. You was hungry, wasn’t you?” 

'' Rather ! Good-bye.” 

Good-bye.” 

Reddy was looking anxiously for him. 

‘‘Thought you’d given me the slip. Get any- 
thing?” 

“I did. Beat yours all holler, and yours was 
stolen, too.” 

“Was it?” looking uneasily at the sleeper. 

“Yep, and they’re awful mad, too !” 

Reddy frowned. “ Must want to get us into a scrape, 
I should think ! The fool ! We ’ve got to start.” 

Tom was hoping he meant to start without Brown 
but that was not the case. Reddy went to the horse- 
trough that stood a little way up the road and finally 
got enough water to arouse Brown. It was hard work 
and he was only half awake and very savage when 
he at last stumbled on. They were only intending 
to walk a short distance to a railroad station and Tom 
found the walk quite comfortable after his breakfast. 

After half an hour’s wait at the station, time spent 
by Reddy in trying to keep Brown from being ar- 
rested for making a disturbance, they took their 
train, and from a remark let fall by Reddy, Tom 
believed they would be in the city they were bound 
for by night. 


CHAPTER VI 


TRANSPLANTED 

Tom had passed for a very knowing boy among 
his friends, and had always considered himself such, 
but his recent experiences began to make him feel 
like a mere novice. On the train Brown went at 
once into a log-like sleep. Reddy was desperately 
tired. If he could have been sure he could wake 
up at every station, or that Tom would not leave, 
he would have gone to sleep, too. Tom was sleepy 
but he had a sort of pride about not giving up before 
Reddy. 

‘‘Why don’t you go to sleep, Reddy?” 

“Why do n’t you ? ” 

“ Oh, I do n’t need to — right off. But you can 
hardly keep awake.” 

“ I ’d go in a minute if you would promise to stay 
right where you are.” 

Tom felt half sorry for Reddy, and he was tired 
enough to think with great pleasure of staying 
quietly precisely where he was. And, after all, 
now that he was well away from his familiar haunts 
it felt good to stay with Reddy. 

“I’ll promise that far. You can go to sleep for 
all me.” 


79 


8o 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


And Reddy slept. Tom watched him closely. 
The boyish, rather handsome face, the features 
pinched sharply out with weariness, the wide, 
firm mouth, innocent of beard, the reddish hair 
slanting across the smooth white brow, the long 
lashes slightly darker than the hair — the whole 
aspect was so familiar. 

As Tom watched the face, a dawning suspicion 
grew to be a conviction. 

‘'It’s Kathie all over,” he thought, “when she’s 
tired that way. And like Mother Tide some about 
the forehead and top of the nose. Same eyes, too, 
when they’re open. Knew I’d seen him, first lick! 
O Billy, I know you ! And it’s me and Mother 
Lide, and Kathie, and — and You ” — reverently, 
“against that beast of a Brown ! Yes, I’ll stay right 
along with you till the fight’s over, Billy.” 

He had held out the longest, though his recogni- 
tion of the fact that he had had a night’s sleep and 
they had not, prevented overmuch conceit, and his 
pride finally allowed him to drop off to sleep. 

Every sleep he had seemed to be terminated by a 
shaking, lately. He woke up to 'hear the conductor 
shouting at him : 

“ Get out of here ! This is no sleeping-car ! 
Everybody off, here. Wake up, wake up, I say 1 ” 

Tom and Reddy were able to respond, but it was 
more trouble to arouse Brown. When they were 
actually off the train, the conductor heaved a sigh of 


TRANSPLANTED 


8i 


[ relief, and confided to the brakeman, There is a 
bad lot for you.” 

Once off the train, in the station, with its thousand 
^ different grades of noises, its bells, and whistles, and 
shouts, and trucks, and bumps, and gongs, and 
valves, and clatter of dishes. Brown again took a 

i determined lead. This city was no new place to 
I him. Rapidly, in and out of fine, handsome streets 
i and dark, crooked ones, he threaded an unhesitating 
way, and finally, in one of the most ill-favored of 
them all, he took them to a place that looked as 
f though it might be a cross between a lodging-house 
and a saloon, except that it had no sign of any sort. 
Brown was well known there ; some greeted him 
effusively, some looked none too well pleased, but, 
with few exceptions, those gathered in the sawdust- 
,, floored drinking-room seemed to know him. There 
was not much of a bar, simply tables and benches 
and stools. The room was hot, and filled with smoke 
and liquor-fumes, although the door and windows 
were wide open. 

' “They don’t all like him,” thought Tom, with 
! satisfaction. 

' He wanted to get away, but there seemed to be 
I no way to do it. Either Brown or Reddy had kept 
I hold of him ever since they left the train. 

“You don’t like it, do You?” thought Tom sadly. 

I “I’d go if I could — you know that, do n’t you? But 
I you will help me, won’t you, about Reddy?” 

6 


82 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Then he had that same comforted feeling again. 
Never mind, he had his Friend right with him, to 
stand by him, no matter what happened, and ready 
to help him in every sort of true, honest, faithful 
way. It was worth everything in the world. Let 
what would come, he could go right on with what- 
ever came to his share ; glad to live and act with 
such a friend. He straightened up, unconsciously — 
held his head better, and was ready to meet life half 
way. 

‘‘Why, you’re mettling up some, Tom! What’s 
got into you? Brown will let you eat, to-night, I 
guess.” 

“I hope so,” smiled Tom, with a backward, grate- 
ful thought toward his cherry pie. 

They did eat, and Tom was permitted to have a 
sufficient portion. Brown found that Tom was the 
subject of a good many questions and remarks. 
More than one man said: “He ’ll do. Right stuff. 
Sharp boy,” and so on. Most of the talk, however, 
was outside of Tom’s understanding. A little here 
and there he could pick up — enough, before the 
evening was over, to let him know beyond a doubt 
that these men were practised lawbreakers, bona 
fide burglars and safe-blowers ; any and all of them 
men who had served a sentence, or ought to have 
done so ; most of them were men wanted by the 
police. It was interesting enough. 

Tom watched Reddy’s flushed, keen face, intelli- 


TRAATSPLAIVTED 


83 


I gent eyes, wide awake to everything. Tom could 
t not decide how far Reddy had ever been implicated 
I with men as far advanced in their trade as these men 
/ were. He became tolerably certain that Brown was 
t an old hand, but that Reddy had seen nothing of 
service except under Brown’s tutelage. And he felt 
sure that Reddy was listening with feverish eager- 
f ness to these men, to hear how they had succeeded, 
i and what had been their adventures. The character 
of the interest Tom had taken in what he heard 
changed. He listened still more intently, but lis- 
tened as though through Reddy’s ears. How would 
that strike him? Would he believe that? Was he in 
too deep to back out? How badly was he bitten? 
When Brown got into a dispute with another man, 
Tom was glad. When the general sociability of the 
:i evening turned to a general free-all-around quarrel 
!i in words, with threats of worse, Tom was glad. But 
I when he saw Reddy entering into the spirit of the 
: dispute, as he had into the more amiable conversa- 
tion, he felt heart-sick. 

Brown ’ll have it all his own way,” he thought, 

. bitterly. 

For the night it turned out that Reddy and Tom 
I had a mattress at the far end of the lodging room, 
i the floor at the other side being fairly well occupied 
I with similar mattresses. Reddy was excited ; he 
I talked some and swore at everything. Tom was 
thoroughly well used to oaths. He had always heard 


84 HIS BEST FRIEND 

them. That he was not foul-mouthed himself was 
due to his being a cheerful-natured, fun-loving boy, 
who dealt in expletory language for its humorous- 
ness only. He was disgusted with Reddy’s swearing 
and he was astonished at his disgust. But when 
Reddy used the name of Tom’s Friend, a name Miss 
Roslyn had used reverently, he was on fire. 

“ Stop that, Reddy,” he said sharply. 

Stop what? ” 

‘‘ Stop swearing.” 

‘‘What’s the matter with you, anyway?” 

“You didn’t speak right about my Friend. He’s 
my friend, and I do n’t like to hear his name spoken 
that way.” 

“ What are you talking about?” 

“ See here, Reddy,” and Tom took a hasty resolu- 
tion, “ would you like it if some one kept saying 
mean things before you about Mother Lide? — the 
best”— 

He did n’t get out any more. Reddy sprang at 
him and gripped his throat with both hands. 

“ What do you mean? Who are you? What did 
you say that for? Why don’t you answer? ” Then, 
perceiving that Tom was becoming black in the face, 
he released him and glared at him. 

“ How can I answer when you ’re choking the life 
out of me? I mean what I say. Would you like it 
if somebody slandered Mother Lide?” narrowly 
noting Reddy’s pale face at every word he spoke. 


TRAIsrSPLANTED 85 

What do you know about — Mother Lide — as 
you call her? '' 

What do n’t I know? I know she loved her boy 
[ Billy a great sight more than any other boy in that 
I tenement ever was loved, and I know her boy Billy 
? treated her meaner than any other boy in our tene- 
ment ever treated his mother. He went off and left 
. her — her, an old woman — to work early and late, in 
t the sun or rain, to keep herself and Kathie, after she 
had worked years to keep him, and he about broke 
I her heart — the kindest, nicest, best mother a boy 
I ever had !” facing Reddy squarely. But Reddy had 
I succumbed ; his face was buried in his hands, 
y “You left her for him'' pointing with scorn to the 

I far side of the room where Brown was talking ear- 
' nestly with a knot of men — “ left her for him, a 
bully, a coward, and you ’ve got more sense in your 
little finger than he ’s got in his whole skull, and to- 
night,” finding the words coming faster than he could 
speak them as he went on, “ you was suited to be 
with him here, with these toughs. You forgot how 
sick of it all you felt this morning. Now you think, 
or did think, you ’d go on like these, and you never 
thought a word about poor, poor Mother Lide, look- 
ing up into every face that passes her stand, looking 
' for yours. It ’s a shame.” 

' Reddy was like his mother, warm-hearted and 
impulsive. In his stubborn separation from her and 
his determined clinging to the associations that had 


86 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


already set him apart from law-abiding citizens, he 
had missed her warm, caressing, flattering speech 
more than he could tell. His heart craved the sight 
and touch and voice of her, even to heart-sickness at 
times. But he was as stubborn as he was proud. 

With one of those swift changes that had always 
made him winning since he was born, just as his 
mother was, he stretched himself out on the mat- 
tress, drawing Tom down beside him, with his arm 
around him, and whispered : 

'' Now talk low. Tell all about her — tell me.'' 

“ I was going for the doctor for her when you 
stopped me." Tom could feel Reddy tremble. 

For her? " 

She sent me, I mean, for Kathie." 

How did you know me? " 

Why you look just like 'em both; I couldn’t 
help know you." 

“ Did she talk about me? " 

She never mentioned you." 

Reddy started involuntarily. A cold, desolate 
gloom came over him. His mother, who talked so 
much, never spoke of him ! 

“ Old Mulhaley told me. I would n't dare say 
your name to her. You hurt her." 

Then with something like tact he told all manner 
of little things about Mother Tide, her ways, her say- 
ings, imitating her slight brogue, which he could do 
to perfection, telling what the neighbors said of her. 


TRANSPLANTED 


87 


Reddy treasured every word. He listened so 
well, so eagerly, that Tom began to think that 
Reddy was moved at last — that to-morrow he would 
go back to his mother. 

But Reddy knew better ; he could think as well as 
listen. He had thrown in his lot and he was going to 
abide by it. This moment’s talk of his mother was 
good, but he was going on as he had begun for all that. 

Now do n’t talk again unless I tell you to,” he 
said firmly when Tom paused. I ’m obliged to 
you. But this is going to stop right here. You 
wont have to stay here long, I ’m sure. If I ’m so I 
can I ’ll help you back. But do n’t talk any more. 
I ’m in this gang and in this gang I ’m likely to stay 
for a while.” 

Tom was bitterly disappointed, too much so for 
words. He could have sobbed, but he was ashamed 
to. He felt as though his whole heart cried out to 
his heart’s Friend, who could and would and did 
understand all that misery. And it seemed as 
though his heart was answered with the assurance 
that Another had known that sorrow to its dregs, 
the sorrow of battling futilely for a soul that would not 
heed. Far closer friends they must be than before, 
Tom thought gratefully. He could understand bet- 
ter what his Friend had lived through, the sorrows he 
had known ; and he begged with all his might that 
he might never grieve Him through his blindness 
and hardness. 


88 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Oh, help me, just help me ! I want to want 
your way/' 

And he was strangely comforted and fell asleep. 

That night back in Mother Lide's room there was 
a sorry group. Kathie was out of danger but very 
pale and weak ; her little white face stared out from 
the pillow on the bed. She had wished Mother Lide 
to place her so that she could watch the door for Tom. 

Mother Lide had finished doing the things neces- 
sary to be done about the room, and sat in Kathie’s 
chair by the window. John sat silently by the other 
window. Both Mother Lide and John dreaded 
Kathie’s quivering-voiced question, — Why does n’t 
Tom come? ” 

John had haunting fears that Tom had been 
injured. Mother Lide, more used to disappointment 
and desertion, believed he had simply gone for a 
while, either tired of them or inveigled into some new 
scheme. John realized far more fully Tom’s attach- 
ment to Kathie and Mother Lide. And Kathie 
wanted him so ! 

‘‘ Oh, I hear him,” she cried ; but the steps stopped 
at the landing below. 

Dr. Gray had brought Kathie some oranges and 
John began carefully to prepare one as Dr. Gray 
had shown him. When it was ready he took the 
little saucer over by the bed, and sitting on the edge 
he handed her piece by piece. She ate them eagerly. 


TRANSPLANTED 


89 


John, where ’s Tom ? 

' '' He did n’t come back last night after he went 

for the doctor.” He had said precisely the same 
thing a dozen times before. 

' '' Why did n’t he come back, John? ” 

‘ I do n’t know. But I am sure he will come 

back as soon as he can and will tell us all about it.” 

How soon? ” 

‘‘ I do n’t think right away, because if he could 
have come right away he would be here.” 

Do you think he is hurt? ” 

‘‘ He never has been hurt. Tom ’s the smartest 
boy in the ward.” 

Did he want to go away? ” 

^‘No, I know he didn’t. He will come the first 
minute he can, and you want to hurry and get well 
so he won’t find you sick.” 

' -All right, I will.” 

-Frau Kraf says her son’s got his place out in the 
country. They ’re going next week.” 

-Is it in the country?” 

-There are houses all around. They’ll have a 
' garden. It ’s a little brick house with a yard and an 
' apple tree, and some more trees, and some bushes 
, and some flowers in it.” 

1 -Oh-h-h!” 

-Frau Kraf and her daughter are going to do all 

i their garden work. They know how.” 

; -What does the son do?” 


90 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


^‘You know — he’s a motorman, and he runs right 
by that house every trip, so they can see him.” 
‘‘Oh-h!” 

“And Kathie — Mother Lide, can I tell her some- 
thing?” 

“Faith, Johnnie, dear. I’ll never be for stopping 
you talking ! ” 

“Listen, then, Kathie. Frau Kraf says if they can^ 
when they’re fixed, they want to find some way to 
have you go out there to see them.” 

“ Oh-h-h-h ! Mother, listen ! ” 

“Now, they’re kind people! Kathie, you’ll be a 
regular traveler, and what will I be doin’?” 

“I’ll stay by you. Mother Lide,” said John seri- 
ously. 

“Nobody stays by me long, Johnnie. What with 
wakes and partings it’s little sight I have left.” 

“But, mother, I won’t go,” protested Kathie. 

“ Sure, it would be the makin’ of you, and a glad 
woman I’d be. You mustn’t listen to grannie’s talk, 
Kathie.” 

“Would you take care of the plants, John?” 
asked Kathie anxiously. “ I want them so handsome 
when Tom comes back.” 

“Of course. They’ll be all right.” 

“John, do you think Jesus can take care of 
Tom?” 

“Do you?” 

“I ’m sure he could if Tom was here where we are. 


TRANSPLANTED 


91 


You know Emily in the story knew he took care of 
them all the time, and I mean to be just like Emily. 
She prayed to him to take care of all of them. But 
Tom isn’t here.” 

‘'Oh, well, Kathie, if Jesus could take care of 
him here, he could anywhere, so that ’s all right.” 

“It doesn’t seem so easy to me,” said Kathie 
doubtfully — “ but if you understand it ” — 

“Certainly; Tom told me about it himself. He 
said Jesus was his friend.” 

“Oh, he did! Say, mother, I think Tom’s all 
right.” 

“Johnnie boy, you’re getting a great tongue in 
your head. I don’t know what I’d be doin’ without 
you!” 


CHAPTER VII 


IN A BAD BUSINESS 

Exactly what opinion Brown’s acquaintances had 
of Brown was a matter of interest to Tom. He found 
by watching that many of these men who frequented 
the house where they lodged were considered far 
more successful and expert than Brown could claim 
to be. These men took but scant interest in him, 
while Brown was feverishly anxious to get in with 
them. Another set, made up of what might be 
called stragglers in their business, were open to 
his proposals and ready to listen to his schemes. By 
dint of keeping his eyes and ears open, Tom at last 
thought he understood how things were. It was 
about the only occupation he had, as Brown was sin- 
gularly determined to keep hold of him, and he was 
not allowed a moment by himself. He was always 
with Reddy or Brown or some one detailed to watch 
him. As he was generally with Reddy he could put 
up with it with better grace, but again and again his 
whole heart sickened within him at the life around 
him. He had never been given to quarreling with 
his environment or wishing for alteration of circum- 
stances other than he could himself effect, but now, 
at times, he longed thirstily, hungrily, for a place 

92 


IN A BAD BUSINESS 


93 


where people were not quite so determined to be 
bad, where there was a chance for a little blossoming 
of kindness, and honesty, and decency. 

Reddy had ceased to be sociable and was evidently 
occupied with a scheme of Brown’s. As near as 
Tom could make out Brown was intensely anxious to 
be one in a plot on foot among the experts, and had 
secured a quasi promise of participation could he 
but successfully carry through some smaller oper- 
ations to prove his fitness. One of these sub-under- 
takings was to be wholly in his hands with Reddy as 
aid, though others knew about it, and Tom was aware 
that he was the bone of contention in this matter. 
Brown was determined that Tom should be impli- 
cated as deeply as possible in some of his plans, and, 
contrary to all advice, he insisted on having Tom 
to assist him in his burglary with Reddy. Tom 
heard all about it in connection with a great variety 
of other things one night when he was supposed to 
be asleep. 

^'What do you want to take that kid in for?” 
grumbled one man. Clumsy boy — give the whole 
thing away !” 

“ Oh, yes,” in reply to an assertion of Brown’s, 
‘^when he’s trained. But you’re crazy to let him 
begin on that.” 

Brown had been drinking ; he drank very heavily 
lately and it was telling on him. He had very little 
self-control and easily became violent. The alter- 


94 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


cation ended as usual in fierce language by Brown 
and his renewed determination to do precisely as 
he pleased, no matter what the consequences. 

Tom understood the situation. Brown and Reddy 
were to burglarize some house and Tom was to assist, 
he rather thought by being obliged to enter the house 
first. 

The other news he gained was that their present 
rendezvous was considered unsafe for a time, which 
accounted for a general exodus. Reddy and Tom 
had an apology for a room in a queer sort of a build- 
ing, while Brown and two more men occupied one 
adjoining. Tom was so opposed to Brown that he 
made a steady business of refusing everything he 
demanded for the sake of making trouble. Not 
that he had managed to escape doing what Brown 
said. He had merely succeeded in raising a disturb- 
ance. Now, when he felt it imperative not to do as 
Brown desired, he saw that he must go about his 
refusal in a different way. 

'‘What is the whole business, anyway?^’ he thought, 
trying to clear things up in his mind. “I ’m to be 
put into a house, land knows what for — either to go 
and get some particular thing, or to warn them if 
there is any reason why they should not come in, or 
to give the fellow chloroform in the room they want 
to go into, or something. Now whatever shall I do? 
I ’ll get some fun out of it, anyway. I never came 
so near dying in my life as I have here, ' Not a boy 


IN A BAD BUSINESS 


95 


have I seen, not a place have I been where a boy 
could have any fun. Nothing but smoke and drink 
and gamble and swear, and back again. I ’ll just 
put up a job on Brown, see if I do n’t. Only I hope 
Reddy will pull out all right.” 

Just what he was to do he still had not decided 
when he found himself about one o’clock at night 
with Brown and Reddy in the brick area of what 
seemed like a fine house. Brown was secretly very 
very distrustful of Tom’s rather sullen acquiescence, 
or rather lack of open opposition. Nothing but the 
amount of liquor he had drunk kept his stubborn- 
ness up in opposition to his judgment and his fears. 
Tom had his instructions. The very narrow window 
of the pantry they had opened would scarcely admit 
anything larger than a boy. He was to unlock and 
unbolt the area door ; and then with his dark lantern, 
giving but a thread of light, he was to go to the 
second floor, to the bedroom over the area, apply 
the chloroformed cloth to the man who slept in that 
room and after a reasonable pause, listening if there 
might be other disturbance in the house, he was to 
whistle at the window ; one whistle if all was safe, two 
if he heard any one moving. 

They were all silent ; everything .was silent. Even 
the light breeze in the two trees in front of the house, 
and in the trees in the small, high brick-walled gar- 
den, gave more the impression of silence than of 
sound. 


96 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


The window was skilfully removed. Tom was put 
inside ; he was agile and clever. A little thing like that 
he could do easily enough. On his feet he wore a sort 
of felt sock such as Brown and Reddy wore. He 
arranged his lantern so that he could see. The pan- 
try door was open into the kitchen, from which 
another door was also open to the back stairs. He 
hesitated as he stood there. He felt terribly lone- 
some. No boy Friend was with him now. He was 
quite alone. 

''You wouldn’t be in here ! ” he groaned inwardly. 
"You wouldn’t be burglin’ ! But I’m not. I’m not 
burglin’. You won’t stay away for good, will you? 
I’m not burglin’; don’t you know it yourself?” 

But there was no relief from the lonesomeness. 
Up the stairs he went. They didn’t creak. It was 
a well made house. He never would know which 
way to turn, he was sure. The door at the head of 
the stairs was closed, but it opened smoothly. Peo- 
ple who lived in that house kept things oiled. The 
slender light of his lantern showed him a small, 
oblong hall and three doors, all closed. His heart 
beat very fast. It seemed a dreadful thing to open 
one of those doors. Something must be done, how- 
ever, and he opened one. It was a bath-room. He 
opened another. As soon as he opened that he 
started back, for it seemed quite light. He could 
see clearly, yet there had seemed from the outside 
to be no light in the house. 


m A BAD BUSINESS 


97 


What he saw was a spacious hall ; in the half light 
it seemed palatial to Tom. Doors were closed, but 
one in front of him, at the end of the hall, stood 
open. Tom saw why it was light. An arc light 
from the street shone in through the room in front, 
lighting the hall, and as he moved cautiously along 
toward that room he saw that light also came in 
through a great stairway window. The room with 
the open door was, he was sure, the room he was to 
enter. It was a large room. Tom had an impres- 
sion of a couch and fine chairs, a mirror and pieces 
of furniture such as he had seen in furniture-store 
windows. Over at the other side was a bed. Alto- 
gether too fine a thing for a bed, but there was a man 
lying there asleep. Tom could see his beard, and 
his hair falling across his forehead, and his arms 
lying upward above his head. 

Tom was still clutching the chloroform cloth, and 
he had the bottle he was to redrench it from. He 
had meant to drop it as soon as he entered the house 
but he was still clutching it. He dropped it now. 
He wondered if it would do any harm where it was. 
To be sure he was in the right room he stepped to the 
window nearest the bed. There was a wire screen in 
it, but he could see enough to know that he was right, 
and he thought he heard Brown’s voice whispering. 

“Good enough for him!” thought Tom, shrug- 
ging his shoulders. “But I mustn’t let Reddy get 
caught; no, sir 1 ” 

7 


98 


HJS BEST FRIEND 


Now he must do what he was going to do. He 
stepped to the side of the bed, pushed up the 
slide of his lantern and held it behind him. 

Say, mister,” he said, in a quiet but firm voice. 

Say, mister, wake up.” 

The man stirred uneasily. Then he opened his 
eyes directly on Tom. 

Say, mister, do n’t worry any, but there ’s a 
couple of burglars plannin’ to get in your house. 
They ’re not in. I ’m the only one that ’s in.” 

Whatever of astonishment the man experienced 
was overcome by amusement at the conclusion of 
Tom’s remark. 

Well, you ’re not a very dangerous burglar, 
apparently.” 

Tom stepped to the screen and gave two clear, 
sharp whistles. 

What did you do that for?” The man’s hand 
came down heavily on Tom’s shoulder. 

There was a very distinct noise from the area 
below and at the same time a window in the room 
overhead was pushed up, followed by a sound of 
softened running on the pavement and then by a 
pistol shot from the room overhead and a delighted 
exclamation, — Hit, as I live ! ” 

^^What did you do that for?” repeated the man 
sternly. 

'' So they would get away and not be caught,” 
answered Tom, staring down the street. 


IN' A BAD BUSmESS 


99 


Was one of them hit? If so, which one? How he 
did want to be going. But there was no moving with 
that heavy hand on his shoulder. 

You stand right there until I slip on some 
clothes. Now do n’t you move.” 

Hearing some one coming down the stairs the man 
hastily stepped outside the door, closing it after him. 
There was a sound of low, excited voices in the hall. 
Evidently the person who had fired the shot had 
come down to report. 

Tom looked out the window. There were two 
policemen coming on a run. The police call had 
been given. His forehead and the back of his hands 
were wet. He had not thought of the policemen 
getting there so soon. 

Oh, I would n’t leave You all alone with a police- 
man just about to get you,” he cried out. 

He really had made a noise, and the bedroom 
door opened and he heard some one going down 
the stairs, while the gentleman he had already seen 
returned. 

What ’s the matter? ” 

But there was very little the matter with Tom 
then. Peace had come to him again. The loneli- 
ness was gone, and the wild sort of gratitude he felt 
made everything else seem of little moment. Surely 
he could stand anything if he did not have to be alone. 

You ’re not going to hand me over to those 
policemen, are you?” 


100 


ms BEST FRIEND 


Why not? Do n’t you deserve it? ” 

No.” 

‘‘Are n’t you in my house, where you do n’t 
belong, in the middle of the night? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Now tell me all about it. Sit down there. Tell 
me the exact truth.” 

The gentleman’s voice was kind, and so was his 
look. The gas-jet he had lighted made a pleasant 
light in the room. Tom could hear that the police- 
men had come in and that some one was talking to 
them in low tones. 

“ Go on.” 

“ There is n’t much to it. A man was going to 
rob this house. He put me in through a little win- 
dow and I unlocked the door, and I was to put that 
cloth to your face,” pointing to the discarded cloth 
on the floor, “ because what they wanted was in this 
room. And I was to whistle if any one moved, and 
so after I told you I whistled.” 

“ What did you tell me for?” 

“ I did n’t see how I could help coming in, and 
that was the only thing I could think of to do.” 

“ Well, / think you could have helped coming in; 
a boy that looks as strong and capable as you do ! 
You said one man, but two men ran away.” 

Tom was silent. 

“ Were n’t there two men? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 


i 


IN A BAD BUSINESS 


loi 


Why did you say one man? ” 

“ One man was running the job, so I just said one 
man.” 

“ Who were they? ” 

Why, I could n’t tell you,” in surprise. 

“ Why not? ” 

I should think you could see how mean it would 
be,” indignantly. 

don’t see it at all. To be stopped short might 
be the saving of one or both of them, and they were 
evidently harming you very seriously. It would 
prevent that.” 

Tom smiled rather incredulously. 

“Come, now; who are your people and your 
friends, and what are you in such bad company for?” 

Any tenement child has an inbred distrust of the 
advances of the more moneyed class. Tom had no 
idea of telling about Mother Tide and Kathie. It 
was bad enough to be in a tight place oneself and of 
course he had absolutely no claim on them. 

“ I have n’t any people.” 

“What is your name?” 

“Tom Hart.” 

“Thomas Hart, why do you say you haven’t any 
people?” 

“I don’t know anybody in this whole city,” said 
Tom doggedly, “except those two men and some 
more just like them, and I only know them by 


name. 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


T02 

Now the policemen went after those men,” con- 
tinued the gentleman after a pause, ‘‘and as one of 
them was shot, very likely they will be caught ; what 
are you going to do?” 

“Why, I ’ll get along all right,” said Tom. “I ’d 
be glad if one of them was caught, but I ’d be sorry 
for Reddy.” 

“ Reddy?” 

“That’s the name one of them goes by.” Tom 
was vexed at his slip. 

“Well, Tom, suppose I let you go now, will you 
come back again and tell me about yourself and 
explain things to me?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Now, I doubt it. At any rate, I have no inten- 
tion of letting you go to-night. Come, now, I want 
you to show me how you came up-stairs and how 
you got into the house and all about it.” 

“All right, sir.” 

Tom’s mind was still revolving around Reddy. 
Was it Reddy who was shot? If so, would Reddy 
be the one caught? It did not seem possible, and 
yet Tom was so afraid it might be Reddy. 

“That beast of a Brown!” thought Tom vindic- 
tively. “It ought to be him. But I must find Reddy.” 

How he was to get away to find anybody looked 
like a difficult matter. 


m A BAD BUSINESS 


103 


Tom picked up his lantern. He went down the 
hall, showed his companion how he opened the bath- 
room door, went down the back stairs, showed him 
how he came in the pantry window and had gone to 
the door and unlocked and unbolted it. The gentle- 
man opened the door to see if it really would open; 
seizing the opportunity, Tom darted through the 
opening, up the area steps and away. 

^‘Confound him !” said the gentleman as he stared 
blankly at the spot by the area railing where he had 
seen him last. was too sharp with him,’’ he 
thought regretfully. scared him. I wanted to 
keep him and do something for him. Mighty good 
stuff in him, I ’ll be bound. Just Winthrop’s age,” 
with a groan. ‘‘When I opened my eyes and saw 
that straight little fellow standing there with that 
light behind him like a halo, I thought for a moment 
he had come at last. Oh, why could n’t I have been 
more careful !” 


CHAPTER VIII 


NEW QUARTERS 

As soon as Tom saw that he was free on the street 
and unpursued, he went slower while he made up his 
mind what to do. He was wholly unacquainted with 
the streets. Had it been daylight, with people coming 
and going, he must inevitably have lost his bearings. 
But the streets looked quite the same as they had 
when Tom last came through them. He had ob- 
served them very keenly then and could retrace his 
steps now. His heart was in a tumult. If Reddy 
had been the one shot his chance of escaping from 
the police was very slight. Perhaps he was already 
taken. If so, his going back to fall into Brown’s 
clutches was sheerest folly. But as long as he could 
not be sure about Reddy he had to go on. When 
he saw a policeman he waited until he could safely 
get by. By closely watching all the landmarks he 
had previously noted he found he was returning to 
more familiar quarters. He would go to their room. 
He dreaded to. He was afraid that if Brown saw 
him he would be angry enough to kill him on 
the spot. Of course Brown did not know what 
Tom had done inside the house, but Brown was 
the sort of a man who had to wreak vengeance 

104 


JVEIV QC/ARTERS 


105 


for every failure on somebody — the weakest at 
hand. But Tom had to go on. Gritting his teeth 
together and squaring his shoulders, and bend- 
ing forward to endure a blow, he dashed in the 
entrance of the building where he and Reddy had 
their room, up the stairs, and waited nervously beside 
their closed door. He had expected to hear noises 
from Brown’s room or the hall, loud talking, vocifer- 
ations, explanations ; but all was still. He thought 
he heard a groan inside the door. Bracing himself 
and with a throbbing inward cry of, “You ’re so good 
to stay with me. I ’m so glad of it,” he tried the 
door. It opened. There was no light. It was 
darker there even than out in the hall and he had 
had to feel his way there. Hoping that the bit of can- 
dle in a potato and the matches were where he could 
find them he groped his way toward a table. He 
was sure he heard a suppressed but difficult breath- 
ing from the direction of the bed. He thought if he 
struck a match and saw that it was Brown or some of 
the other men on the bed he would make a dash for 
the door and get away. He found a match ; it sput- 
tered twice before it lighted. He looked toward the 
bed and in the flare of the candle saw a pair of 
bright, strained eyes looking at him. 

“Oh, Reddy!” he cried, kneeling down beside 
the bed and grasping Reddy’s hand. 

“Well, Tom, you’ve been scaring a fellow bad 
enough 1 ” 


io6 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Where were you hurt, Reddy?” There was blood 
on Reddy’s clothes and on the bed. 

Shoulder ; it ’s only a flesh wound, I know — but 
I bled so. It only just scraped through.” 

Reddy was very weak and pale. He spoke in a 
gasping way. don’t know why it uses me up so. 
I’m a chicken.” 

‘‘Where’s Brown?” 

“He’s caught,” with a flicker of a smile. “After 
I was hit I began to run slower ; could n’t get on to 
save me, and finally I gave out and slumped down in 
a little dark corner, in by a church. Brown he swore 
and went on. He was just crazy. He gets that 
way. The cops passed by me, and blest if they 
didn’t catch up with Brown; can’t think how he let 
’em; drink, I guess; and they fetched him along 
back right past me. And after that I came on and 
got up here; didn’t see nobody, and it’s the first 
night since we’ve been here that this hole has n’t just 
been alive with people. But this here’s no place for 
me. Brown will send ’em here for me. Yes, he will. 
If they hold him he will. He’ll wait and see what 
they do, then he will. But I can’t help it. I’m 
wore out,” wearily. “They won’t have no evidence 
against Brown, I’m thinking. He wasn’t caught in 
the act, and none of those folks could identify 
him. I’ll be bound.” 

Tom was disappointed, but as he sat there he be- 
gan to think that perhaps Brown was wanted for some 


JVEJV QUARTERS 


107 


other job, and might be well enough known to be 
held for something else. If so, Reddy was in a bad 
situation. Tom cut off Reddy’s coat and shirt. The 
shoulder was badly lacerated and the wound looked 
very distressing already. Reddy’s not over-clean 
shirt on the raw flesh had not improved it any. Evi- 
dently there was no bullet there. Tom got some 
water and bathed it, but he was not very hopeful 
about it. Dr. Gray had used all sorts of things to 
stop the poison when Jim tore his arm with the little 
cannon last Fourth of July. 

Reddy moaned and Tom was distracted. Reddy 
ought to have a doctor. But anything else than 
secrecy might bring on lots of trouble. 

‘^How much money you got, Reddy?” 

‘‘Precious little.” 

“This sort of thing don’t pay so well’s if you 
were getting two and a half a day steady like Joe 
Mulhaley.” 

“Who said it did?” angrily. “Quit prodding that 
place ! ” 

“I’m doing it easy. You ’ve got to get away from 
here. Do you know anything about this town ? ” 

“ Not much.” 

“ Do you know any other place like this, only way 
off, where I might get a place for you to stay?” 
“No.” 

“They’ll be looking for a shot man, so we’ll have 
to keep quiet about it.” 


io8 H/S BEST FRIEND 

^‘Get me some whiskey/' 

“I won’t do it.” 

“Why not?” 

“ I do n’t believe you ’ve taken much of anything 
but beer and whiskey and tobacco for a week.” 

“Too hot for anything else.” 

“ That’s what makes you so weak-kneed and upset 
so easy. You oughtn’t to mind a shot much.” 

“ Get out ! ” 

“I’ll go get you something and then you’ll just 
have to start out with me. I ’ll help you all I can, 
and we’ll go; it’s getting light, and by the time you 
can’t go any further perhaps we ’ll get a safe place. 
I want to get a doctor, but you would n’t dare have 
one here.” 

Reddy’s eyes were wearily closing. 

Tom saw there was no time for delay, and taking 
what money he could find on Reddy he started out. 

The saloon restaurant where they ate was one 
that was kept open all night, but he was afraid to go 
there. He remembered another, and went to that. 
There was only one set of men in there, and they 
were in a half stall. Tom could not see them very 
well. He asked for a bowl of soup and drank it. 
It was strong, hot soup. Then he asked if he could 
have a pitcher and take away some if he would bring 
the pitcher right back. The man was about to say 
no, as a matter of course, but after looking at Tom a 
moment went off for the pitcher of soup. Tom felt 


ATEJV Ql/AETERS 


109 


SO much better himself after the soup that he 
thought it would help Reddy also. 

The candle was still sputtering away when he en- 
tered the room. Reddy was moving restlessly and 
moaning. Tom persuaded him to taste the soup, 
and after one swallow Reddy drank it all. Tom kept 
stopping him to make him drink it slowly. 

You’re a good fellow, Tom,” said Reddy grate- 
fully. Confound me if I know what makes you so 
good.” 

I ’ve got to take the pitcher back, Reddy, and 
you must be all right to start when I come.” 

He made quick time with the pitcher, gathered up 
in the room what Reddy possessed, tried to wipe 
some of the blood off Reddy, but not very success- 
fully, helped him on with a large coat of Brown’s 
that concealed matters somewhat, and off they 
started. Even by the light of the candle Tom 
could see the way Reddy whitened around the 
mouth. And he did n’t know where they were 
going. It looked like a hopeless business. 

Out in the street they felt the chilly breeze of 
very early morning. It was life-giving to Tom, 
but Reddy shivered. Tom was nervously anxious 
to have Reddy get over as much space as possi- 
ble before his strength gave out, a thing Tom was 
convinced would happen. 

‘‘Use me for a cane, Redd}^, I’m strong; come, 
we ’ll have to hurry ! It ’s getting light awful fast.” 


I 10 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


The mingling of dawn and electric light pro- 
duced a sickly effect. To keep in a mean part of 
the city was necessary, and to avoid going in a cir- 
cle Tom kept as long on one street as he could. 
They went a long way. The character of the street 
was changing perceptibly. The houses were many 
of them very small. Tom began to be afraid that 
they would get out of the city, or that the street 
would improve. He already felt as though they 
were out of the more criminal district. He wished 
to remain in the city. To Tom the country was a 
strange, unnatural development. Give him a good, 
paved street, with houses close together. He could 
not conceive of one being able to escape observation 
in the country. One was a target there. 

Reddy was moving more slowly and with more 
and more difficulty. His lips were white and pressed 
together. Evidently the strength he had received 
from the hot soup was leaving him ; he could not go 
much farther. Tom was afraid lest at any moment 
Reddy might fall unconscious, and the police station 
would then be inevitable. There seemed so far to 
have been no chance of a stopping-place. Every- 
thing was still closed and silent. Tom let nothing 
escape him, but as yet he had not seen anything that 
offered even the barest chance of asylum. His heart 
was in a tumult of hurried beseechings. 

^^CanT You help me? Do n’t let Reddy give up ! 
You must know how it is. Keep him up; I know 


ATEtV QUARTERS 


1 1 1 


you can. I know you can help. I do n’t mean I ’m 
expecting you to make a place for me ; I ’m going to 
do all I can. Just the first chance I see I ’ll work it. 
I ’ll try my hardest if you will only keep Reddy up 
till I find something!” 

Over and over he kept repeating such words in 
his mind, and looking at every door and window. 
It was clear that he must turn around soon. Far 
down the street he saw a door open in one of the 
smallest houses. He could see it was a little frame 
building. A small girl came out. Tom could see 
that the place was a store and that the store win- 
dow was closed by two old-fashioned, heavy, wooden 
shutters. The little girl struggled helplessly with the 
shutters. As they came near her Tom could see 
that she was sobbing violently, though in a sup- 
pressed way. She could do nothing with the shut- 
ters. Reddy was lunging in his gait and Tom helped 
him sit down on the step, propped as comfortably as 
might be against the door-frame. 

‘‘ What ’s the matter, little girl? ” 

She looked around apprehensively, trying to stop 
her sobs. 

Do n’t be afraid. I ’m going to help you. 
What ’s the matter? ” 

But she could n’t or would n’t speak. 

Do you want these shutters down ? ” 

She nodded. 

There, there,” kindly, do n’t you cry. I ’ll fix 


I 12 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


it in a jiffy,” and seeing how the shutters came down 
he took off one and then the other, while the little 
girl, though sobbing, stood watching. 

Now, then, where do they go? I can carry one 
at a time, I guess.’’ 

She slipped before him into the door, and he 
lugged in one heavy shutter; he put it where she 
showed him and went for the other. It was a poor 
enough sort of a store. In the window were some 
large fruit-jars holding tea and coffee ; a box of 
raisins; a box that said ^^Rice” on it; some written 
signs of Flour” and Sugar;” a box of candles; 
a jar with some striped sticks of candy ; some soap ; 
even to Tom it seemed the poorest sort of an array. 
After he had taken in the other shutter the little 
girl began to cry again. 

'^Now you tell me what’s the matter,” persuaded 
Tom. ^^I’ll help you, you see if I don’t!” 

Looking up into Tom’s brown eyes the child 
found her tongue, and in a sobbing whisper stumbled 
out the words, ''Pap broke his leg, last night, and 
he’s gone to the hospital, and we ain’t been here 
long, and we don’t know much of nobody, and 
mammy’s cryin’ sick, and Bobby’s takin’ a heap of 
Avorryin’, and mammy says he’s sick, and I can’t 
keep store. I’m too little, and I’m afraid, and pap 
was just gettin’ a start on his store, and if we don’t 
keep store something awful will happen, for it’s the 
last thing pap’s tried, and he’s tried a heap o’ 


JVEJV QC/ARTERS 


113 


things/’ and her tale ran off into an unintelligible 
conglomeration of words and sobs. 

“It ’ll be all right.” Tom patted the little girl, and 
shook her gently, hoping to shake the sobs all out 
and let her begin afresh. 

“You go tell your mammy somebody took down 
the shutters for you and wants to speak to her.” 

The child obediently disappeared through the door 
at the rear of the store, and after a few minutes of 
anxious waiting she came back, followed by a pale, 
worn-out -looking woman, carrying a boy of about 
three, who lay in her arms almost like a dead child. 

The woman looked at Tom apathetically. It 
seemed as though she had suffered and endured until 
she was wholly numb. 

Tom was filled with pity. “See here,” he said 
earnestly, “I’m in trouble myself, and if you’ll help 
me I can help you. That fellow is my friend,” point- 
ing to Reddy sitting on the step, his head leaned 
back, his eyes closed, his sharp, pinched features cut 
like a cameo in the gray light of the morning. 
“ He ’s hurt and tired — nothin’ catchin’ — and he can’t 
go no further, and I can’t leave him. We do n’t 
know anybody in this city and do n’t know any places 
here. He ’ll be all right soon. If you ’ll let me fetch 
him in here and give me a place for him to lie on, 
I ’ll take care of him so you won’t need to even see 
him, and I ’ll work every minute for you. I ’ll keep 
store. I know how, and I ’ll lock up and unlock, and 
8 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


114 

scrub and take care of the children while you go to 
the hospital to see your man.” 

The woman changed expression for the first time, 
and gave some signs of listening. 

‘'I’m in earnest,” his straightforward eyes compel- 
ling her attention. “I’ll do my best. As soon as 
Reddy — that’s him — can move along, we’ll get out, 
if you want us to, or if you want me to help I ’ll stay 
and help you and he can go along. I’ll watch the 
children and give you a chance to rest up. I can do it.” 

He had scored another item in his favor. 

She tried to face the situation, looked out at Reddy, 
then closely at Tom. 

“You ’re a good boy, I guess. I do n’t feel ’s if I 
could be any worse off. I can’t lose anything, and 
you could help if you’re willing. There’s two rooms 
up-stairs and a bed in each. You can have the back, 
I guess.” 

Tom’s heart gave a leap of relief. 

“You won’t be sorry. We won’t be any trouble, 
and I’ll help you like everything.” 

Fearful lest something might happen to interfere, 
he turned to Reddy. The sun had just managed to 
shine into the street, and fell full on Reddy’s death- 
like face. “ Come, Reddy,” Tom whispered in his 
ear, “ you are safe now. Come, brace up ! I’ll help ; 
just once more. That’s it; try, now; I’ll help. 
There ! ” 

Reddy tried his best, and struggled up* Tom 



“THE WOMAN LOOKED AT TOM 




ATEPV QUARTERS 


115 

helped him in, through the store and into the room 
behind, a kitchen, and up the narrow stairs, though 
how that was done Tom did n’t know. The stairs 
opened into a box-like hall which opened into two 
rooms, one over the store and one over the kitchen. 
The woman, still holding the child, pointed to the 
room over the kitchen. In it was a bed with two pil- 
lows. There was nothing else in the room but two 
grocery boxes. 

Tom did not dare begin by bothering the woman 
for anything. He got off Reddy’s shoes and the 
loose coat. . He felt that it was absolutely necessary 
to bathe the wound, and went boldly down to the 
kitchen sink, got some water in a basin, and went up 
to Reddy. He did what he could, but was conscious 
that it was a desperately poor job. 

He went down-stairs again ; the woman was sitting 
in a rocking-chair with her head leaned back as 
though she were asleep, and holding the inert 
child. 'That the woman was absolutely worn out 
was certain ; that the child was sick was certain ; 
that the little girl, who was sitting in a corner, still 
crying, was nearly sick with grief, was also certain. 
Plainly, Tom was the only well, sensible person in 
the crowd, and he tried to brace himself up for the 
situation. It was good, after all, to have something 
to do. ‘^And it isn’t like being alone,” he thought. 
** We can do it together.” 

There was an old sofa in the room, a table, a stove 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


1 16 

without any fire, a cupboard with dishes in it. It 
looked to him as though the room might have 
been a very comfortable room some time, but it was 
littered and dirty and close and hot. He opened 
the door into the store, and the back door of the 
kitchen ; a refreshing breeze swept through at once. 
He stepped out the back door and gathered some 
pieces of boxes and began to make a fire in the 
stove. The yard was a small affair with a high fence 
around it. In one corner was a heap of coal. When 
his fire was going he put some fresh water in the 
kettle and set it on the fire ; his idea was to make 
some tea for the woman. The little girl had stopped 
crying and was watching. 

Here, sis,” he said; *'pick up all the stuff around 
the floor so I can burn it in my fire.” 

She bestirred herself at once. 

''What's your name, little girl?” 

" Daisy.” 

" Oh ! Daisy what ? ” 

"Daisy Bower.” 

"That's a country name for sure. Put them dishes 
and things over there in the sink, and I'll wash 'em 
in a minute. How old are you?” 

"I'm eight.” 

"You're a mighty small pattern for eight! Get a 
move on you. Such an old girl as that ! You go up- 
stairs to your mammy’s room and fetch down a pil- 
low. I'm going to put it on the sofa.” 


n; 


ATEJV QUARTERS 

He went out into the store and got some tea. 

nice living handy to a store,” he thought. 

He found a loaf of bread in the window under a 
newspaper, and perceived that they must take a sup- 
ply of bread from a baker. Probably their biggest 
trade in the neighborhood was in bread. 

I must watch out for that,” he thought. 

He made his tea, cut off some bread, and laid it 
on top of the stove to toast, fixed the pillow on the 
sofa, and told the little girl to go and sit on the store 
step and let him know if anyone came. He couldn’t 
find any milk, but he got some sugar, and, having 
decided that the tea tasted very good indeed, he took 
the pillow that was already on the sofa, placed it on 
the floor in the breeze, and then said : 

You let me put Bobby on this pillow here where 
it ’s cool. He needs air, I guess.” 

Mrs. Bower opened her eyes, and Tom persuaded 
her to let him put the child down. He did it very 
carefully, and she seemed satisfied. 

“Here’s some hot tea and some toast. It’s 
good.” 

She shook her head, then seized the tea and drank 
it eagerly, hot as it was. He gave her a slice of 
toast, and after some hesitation she ate it and drank 
another cup of tea. 

“Now you lie down on the sofa. I’ll look after 
Bobby.” 

Without waiting for objection he tried to get her 


ms BEST FRIEIVD 


ii8 

over to the sofa, and after a moment she resigned 
herself. She had scarcely lain down before she was 
asleep. 

guess that poor Daisy wants some,” he thought, 
and he carried her out some bread and a cup of the 
tea. The little thing devoured her share as though 
she were half starved. 

“ That little chap will die before his mother wakes 
up,” thought Tom in a worried way. Wish ’t I 
knew what to do for him. I ’ll go and give Reddy 
some tea, and then I guess I ’ll have some myself, 
and see what I ’ll do next.” 


CHAPTER IX 


II i 

I 

DR. ROGERS 

I] 

I Reddy was far beyond tea or toast. He lay in a 
I stupor and Tom felt helpless. 

I “They’re all just alike,” he thought. “Bobby 
I down there lies just like Reddy, and they both lie 
' like Mrs. Bower, only I guess she’s asleep. Weren’t 
you a doctor when You grew up? The Great Physi- 
cian, she said. Won’t You help ? ” and he felt braver ; 

i it seemed as though help were very near. 

He heard a queer little cry from the shop and 
judged that it must be Daisy. 

I She met him at the top of the stairs with two 
J words, “ Want sugar.” 

' I Tom guessed somebody wanted to buy some and, 
I sure enough, a small boy was waiting for ten cents’ 

; ' worth of sugar. 

' Tom had bought sugar, and tea, and coffee, and 
^ ‘ such things for Mother Tide, enough to go through 
. the clerk-like process of dispensing it with the air of 
an expert. He smiled patronizingly at the boy and 
said “Come again” in the most professional manner. 
4 ^The pleasure of selling things was new to him, and he 
I was delighted when a woman came in for ten cents’ 
» worth of tea; 


120 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


‘‘Where's Mr. Bower?” said she, eying him sus- 
piciously. 

“Sad accident, last night. Mr. Bower broke his 
leg, and he’s at the hospital ! ” 

“You don’t say! How did it happen?” 

“Cant give you the particulars. Mrs. Bower 
secured me to tend store, this morning, and I do n’t 
know all the facts.” 

“ I ’ll just step in and see Mrs. Bower,” said the 
woman, officiously. 

“ She ’s asleep. She must n’t be disturbed.” Tom 
was very firm. “She’ll be awake in the course of 
an hour or so, and will be glad to see you.” 

It was with difficulty that he was able to dissuade 
the woman, and she very reluctantly took her de- 
parture. 

“Here, you, Daisy,” he said; “you go in that 
room and you take this paper, and you keep the flies 
off your mother and Bobby. Understand? And 
you’re to bolt the door on the inside — understand? 
And you’re not to open it unless I say ‘Open the 
door for Tom.’ Understand ? ” 

Daisy nodded her head solemnly, and started to 
the kitchen. Tom heard the bolt slide. 

“ Guess they can’t get in now ; and now we ’ll have 
the whooping trade or I ’ll eat my hat 1 Everybody 
around here seems to spend ten cents.” 

Two women came in. One bought rice and one 
bought coffee, and they plied him right and left with 


T 


DR. ROGERS 12 1 

questions about Mr. Bower. Tom was sorely put to 
I it, but he braved it out. When they left he began 
t hurriedly looking over his stores. He found some 
raisins, some cans of things, some crackers, and a 
‘ pail of what looked like jelly. He dusted out 
! the window, rearranged things, and began making 
j plans for increased sales. A stream of curious chil- 
dren came in and bought most of the candy. He 
V persuaded some to buy crackers and raisins. For an 
I ‘ hour he did a rushing business, and his stock was 
. getting disreputably low. Several women tried the 
ir back room door and were chagrined to find it locked. 
Tom began to get very anxious to see how his 
, patients were. Finally the store was empty, and no- 
" : body seemed to be coming that way. He went to 
b , the bolted door. 

I ' “Open the door for Tom, Daisy,” he said. 

i ; No answer. He knocked on the door. No sound 

^ . from within. He tried several times without success. 

“Here’s a pretty mess ! ” was his ejaculation. 

‘ ^ He went back behind the counter, trying to think 
I ; what to do, when a young man came in. 

, The young man was exceedingly well dressed and 

I 1 

! * had a professional air that was very impressive. 

I “ So ! She did get some one to help her ! ” he said. 

I “I want to see Mrs. Bower.” 

II 

1 “I wish you could!” answered Tom, “but the 
door’s locked.” 

“I must see her,” returned the young man in a 


122 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


great hurry. I promised to tell her how I left her 
husband.” 

Oh, are you a doctor?” eagerly. 

Yes ” ; though, as a matter of fact, he was only a 
medical student. 

Then Tom entered into a blunt explanation of the 
state of things within, and the bolted door. She’s 
lying stupid-like, and I about believe that little boy’s 
dead, and as for Reddy, he’s awful far gone.” 

The medical student had rarely struck such a 
bonanza, and he was wild to get inside. 

^‘Say,” said Tom, ‘Tf you ’ll mind the store I ’ll go 
around in the alley and get over the fence and let you 
in.” 

The medical student impatiently agreed, advising 
him to hurry, and stood there snapping his watch. 

Tom hurried, but he was n’t sure of his surround- 
ings, and when he reached the fence it was no easy 
matter to climb it. 

On entering the back door the sight of Daisy 
stretched on the floor in a profound slumber ex- 
plained matters. 

He unbolted the door and the medical student 
strode in. 

He examined Mrs. Bower. 

Nothing the matter with her,” he said, except 
lack of proper food and sleep. She ’ll be better 
when she wakes up. Same here,*” he said, feeling 
of Daisy. 


DR, ROGERS 


123 


He shook his head over Bobby. Prostrated by 
the heat and inability to assimilate improper food. 
Bad way.’' 

Tom had filled the kettle and a large pot with 
water to have the remains of his fire accomplishing 
something. The fire was out but the water was 
warm. 

The young man appeared to hesitate, then he said, 
half to Tom and half to himself, — “ Have to do it, I 
guess; he ’s in a bad way. We ’ll sponge him off.” 

He went to the chest of drawers and opened one 
after another until he found some towels and cloths 
that suited him. Then he took off the child’s single 
garment and gently sponged the hot, emaciated little 
form. 

Tom stood watching, his eyes full of pity and his 
heart filled with a determination to be able to do a 
thing like that himself if it was needed. 

Is that good for anybody like that,” hazarded 
Tom, Doctor — Doctor” — 

Doctor Rogers,” supplemented the young man. 

Yes, of course it is. If there ’d been some soda in 
this water for this little fellow it would have been 
better. Now you ’ve got to get some milk and be 
sharp about it.” 

Tom was sure there was none in the house and he 
did not know where to go for any, but he started, 
wondering what would happen to the store in his 
absence. He reached the store door with his 


124 


HiS BEST FRIEND 


pitcher, to be gladdened by the sight of a milk | 
wagon right in front of him. 

''There, now, that's Your doings," he thought | 
happily. "I never did see such a friend! You’re 
the best — the best." He felt as though his own 
unaided genius would have kept him hunting for i 
milk in the house until the wagon was beyond call. , 

The quickness of his return with a quart of milk 
won a glance of approval from the medical student. 

" Hurry up now, heat up some of that milk and 
a little water." 

Tom started up a small fire again and managed to 
heat a small tin of milk quick enough to suit his 
director. 

Bobby had opened his eyes and was looking 
around in a listless way. The doctor had slipped on 
his one article of wearing apparel and, without much 
hint of awkwardness, though it was a new business to 
him, managed to give the child some milk. The 
little fellow seemed refreshed, and the doctor laid 
him back on the floor as comfortably as possible 
where there was the most air. The child closed his 
eyes. I 

" Now he is asleep, a natural sleep," said the doc- ' 
tor with great satisfaction. " You give him some 
more hot milk when he wakes up, and tell the 
mother to wash the little girl as I did him, and give 
her some hot milk. Mrs. Bower must have more to 
eat — chicken broth — beef soup — something nourish- 


DR. ROGERS 


125 


H' ing/* His air was excessively professional again- 
and he was snapping his watch. 

Please, sir,” Tom edged in, there ’s the other 
I one, up-stairs. He ’s in a worse way yet. He ’s in an 
I awful bad way.” 

The medical student became more alert. Here 
f was luck indeed. He followed Tom up-stairs and 
uttered a somewhat unprofessional exclamation at 
the sight of Reddy’s white face. 

He ’s shot,” whispered Tom. 
r ** Ah,” and the student began his examination. 

[ Tom stood anxiously by. 

[ “Boil me some water — quick now. Make it 
bo/l” 

I And Tom did. It was getting to be about ten 
o’clock, or later, and he had not had a moment’s rest 
for hours and hours. The time since the day before 
i seemed interminable. And he was desperately tired. 
But he felt helped along by that brave, invigorating 
Spirit that seemed to smooth everything out before 
him and make things go right — such a ready, help- 
ful, loving, and very able Friend, 
i “There never was a boy like You,” Tom said, 
over and over; “never; You’re the best! I’ll 
never go back on You. I ’ll try to be like You the 
most I can, I will I ” 

The water was boiled and he went up-stairs with 
it. Doctor Rogers sent him down to the chest for 
any towels or cloths he could find, and when Tom 


126 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


got back the young man was preparing to dress the 
wound. 

It is n’t doing well,” he said. “ Ought to have 
been seen to hours ago, from the looks of it. How- 
ever, there is nothing very bad about it. He ’s all 
run down — been living on liquor and tobacco, and 
poor sort of food. Men that live that way don’t 
want to get shot. Nothing to fall back on. How ’d 
he get shot? ” 

I did n’t see him shot. I found him that way 
where we were staying. We do n’t live in this city, 
and I wanted to get him off if he ’d been getting into 
trouble.” 

The young man looked at Tom curiously, and, 
greatly to Tom’s relief, he let the matter drop. 

Tom watched him dress the wound. 

Could you do that? ” asked the student. 

I could do just what you did now after seeing 
you.” 

‘'All right; I’ll leave you some things and you 
can have the job. These people here are all — ah 
— prostrated, so to speak. This fellow needs some 
food, just what the woman needs. Now do n’t go 
and fetch him beer and whiskey. He ’ll die sure if 
you do.” 

“ I won’t.” 

“ He needs bathing. If you take half-way care of 
him he ’ll be all right, but you must feed the whole 
kit of them, and mind what I said about him.” 


DR. ROGERS 


127 


He mixed a potion, gave Reddy a spoonful of it 
and told Tom to give it to him again in the even- 
ing and in the middle of the night, if he was rest- 
less. 

Got to go now,” snapping his watch again. 
‘‘You tell Mrs. Bower to take those two children 
f and ride with them on the five-mile open car. They 
only need something like that. Well, good bye,” 
with quite a friendly smile ; “ I ’ll drop in on you 
again to-morrow maybe, if my — ah — professional 
engagements permit.” And with quite a bow he got 
himself down-stairs and out. 

As Tom stood in the store trying to stave off the 
weariness he felt overcoming him, he heard a moan. 
He went hastily to the back room and saw Mrs. Bower 
sitting up on the sofa, her hands to her head, and 
staring wildly at the two children sleeping on the floor. 

“ They ’re all right,” said Tom, in a matter of fact 
tone, though his heart was thumping at the strange- 
ness of her appearance, “just asleep. Bobby’s doing 
first-rate.” 

She sank back on the pillow. 

“ I thought — they were — dead,” she sobbed hys- 
terically. 

“Alive as ever. Bobby’s a lot better. Here,” 
pouring out some of the still hot milk, “ drink this. 
I bought a quart.” 

There was a bang at the store door and Tom went 
out to find the baker had come. 


128 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Same? ” he asked. 

Five more,” said Tom at random, sure that cus- 
tom would be lively. 

'' Where ’s Bower? ” 

Hospital. Store ’s going on just the same.” 

Glad of that; sorry for Bower.” He delivered 
twenty loaves and rushed out. He was behind time. 

Tom surveyed the twenty loaves with the greatest 
satisfaction, and returned to the back room. 

Mrs. Bower had sipped her milk. 

'' Feel better? ” 

“Yes, I feel like a new person.” 

Then he told her all the news of the morning; 
how the doctor had left word that her husband was 
doing well and that she could see him the next day ; 
that he had sponged Bobby and fed him hot milk 
and that she must do the same thing for Daisy ; and 
that he said they needed meat soup. 

“ I guess he ’s right,” said Mrs. Bower. “ I Ve 
been knowing we all needed different to eat, but it ^s 
been so hot and the children so captious. I 'm a 
right good cook, too. I know how. I ’ll get a bit 
of soup-meat and make a broth that will strengthen 
us all.” 

Then he told her that trade had used up about all 
their stock, people had come in so to hear about 
the accident, and that as he knew they were coming 
back to see her he had bought more bread. 

“ They ’ll be coming for their bread mighty soon 


DR, ROGERS 


129 


j 


now,” said Mrs. Bower, I ’d best tend shop ; you 
look tuckered out yourself. I ’ll brush my hair and 
freshen up a bit and then you can rest you whilst 
I tend shop.” 

Tom very thankfully agreed, and when she went 
into the shop, rested and feeling as though there was 
still life and hope before her, he threw himself on 
the sofa and went instantly to sleep. 

Mrs. Bower came back and looked at him 
closely. 

*‘A nice-looking boy as ever was, and just as good 
and smart to help as can be. The good Lord was 
certainly thinking of me when he let him happen 
here in my day of trouble.” 

She went up and looked at Reddy. “ He ’s got 
the sort of a face for a mother to long for and make 
of in her heart, but he ’s a sick boy. Well, I guess 
we can make out with that smart boy to do for him 
and help me.” 

The neighbors swarmed in to buy bread and she 
could have sold more, and pies into the bargain, had 
she had them. In addition to the idle curiosity and 
love of any sort of excitement that actuated most of 
them, there was some genuine neighborliness and 
desire to be sociable. The Bowers were new and 
shy, and Mrs. Bower had been tied to her back 
room with the half-sick children, and she realized 
now for the first time that these women could have a 
good thought for her. 


130 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


** I *d take a pie every other day regular, if you 
kept ’em fresh,” said one. 

I ’d buy my bread here instead of up at the 
corner if you laid in more.” 

I like a bit of cake now and then, or cookies,” 
said one. 

If you ’d keep apples, now, I think they ’d sell, if 
they were n’t too high.” 

If I could run in here for a fry of bacon or ham,” 
said one, I ’d prize it.” . • 

Mrs. Bower began to think that perhaps instead 
of losing their little trade she might materially 
increase it 


CHAPTER X 


bower’s agent 

Where am I?” asked Reddy wearily. 

^Wou’re in the bos-s place, Reddy, that’s where 
you are, and everything is all right.” Tom spoke in 
a low, confidential voice. He was dressing the wound 
and Reddy had become really conscious of his sur- 
roundings for the first time. 

‘‘ Quit hurting me so, Tom.” 

I’ll be through in a minute. It’s getting along 
better, and I’ve got a first-rate bowl of stuff for you 
here. She made it.” 

Who ’s she?” 

‘‘Mrs. Bower — where we are staying; and she ’s 
taking real hold, too. You’ve got two sheets 
on this bed, and she washed ’em, and the pillow- 
case. Do n’t you call it good doings? I washed 
the floor and the window. Do n’t it look pretty 
good here? Don’t it smell good here? A woman 
gave me some sassafras stuff and she said it was a 
healthy smell.” 

“ I smell that stuff you ’re foolin’ with more ” — 

“ This — oh — this helps that place get well.” 

“ What became of Brown ?” 

“ Do n’t know and do n’t want to.” 


I 


132 HIS BEST FRIEHD • 

He ’ll run me down if he ’s loose.” 

“Don’t be a baby! You’re free from him and 
can’t help yourself, so do n’t think about him ” — 

“ I ’ll have to think of something.” 

“ If you only just knew my Friend to think about 
you would feel different. You would feel sure every- 
thing was going to be all right and as though you 
could brace up equal to anything.” 

“ Oh, pshaw, that ’s the way you feel after a square 
meal, with money in your pocket.” 

Tom knew that to be true and admitted it. 

“ The trouble is with me, Reddy. I can’t talk it 
off right, but you feel that Somebody cares, and that 
Somebody cares no matter what you do. And you 
can’t keep anything shut away, you ’re not put to 
that trouble, and you do n’t have to explain, you are 
known just the way you are — your best and your 
worst; and then next, you know it’s Somebody who 
is always up with the best and down with the worst, 
and you get on, and you feel good.” 

“You mean — Him — I suppose, do you?” asked 
Reddy after a pause. 

“ Yes, and it ’s true. You see I know it. Now I ’m 
through. I ’m not very fast about it. How ’s this ? 
Taste. Good?” 

Reddy smiled appreciatively and Tom at once felt 
a sick longing to see Kathie. 

“What ’s the matter, Tom?” 

“You look so much like Kathie!” 


BOWEWS AGENT 


133 


The dickens I do !” 

‘‘ You eat a sight. I thought there would be some 
of that left for me. I Ve got to go now. I ’m 
pretty busy. You can blow this whistle if you want 
anything. I dl be down-stairs.” 

‘‘You’re an awful good boy, Tom,” said Reddy 
gratefully. 

Down-stairs Mrs. Bower was waiting with the chil- 
dren. She had tied on their hats. She had only to 
go a block to get the electric car and she was going 
to ride as long as she could for ten cents. Tom had 
persuaded her to go the day before, and Bobby was 
so manifestly improved by it, and she felt so strength- 
ened by it herself, that she was eager to go this after- 
noon. 

Her heart felt warm toward Tom as he came into 
the store, his eager, honest face alight with goodwill 
toward her and the children. 

“ I ’d like to carry Bobby for you to the car if the 
store would keep itself,” he said. 

“ I can carry him. I believe I would n’t have had 
anything of him left to carry, if it had n’t been for 
you, Tom. I believe he ’d have died yesterday” — 
She spoke impulsively and Tom reddened at the 
feeling in her voice. 

“ He ’s all right now, anyway. I ’ll take good care 
of things.” 

“ I know that.” 

Daisy piped up a shrill good-bye, and away they went. 


134 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


Tom had a pencil and paper and he went to work 
taking account of stock. He meant to talk with 
Mrs. Bower that night and see if he or she could not 
replenish their wares. He had a variety of schemes 
for increasing business, and as he whistled and looked 
into things, and cleaned out boxes and brushed 
shelves, and dusted and wiped places, and washed 
spots and did a hundred things to improve appear- 
ances before Mrs. Bower came back, he was keeping 
up a running fire of plans with his boy Friend. 

I just believe You must have kept a store your- 
self,’' he thought enthusiastically; ‘‘You put me up 
to so many good ways ! I’m equal to keeping my 
eyes open myself, too ! I ’m not just going to wait 
for a boost. Trade ’s first-rate. I ’ll fix our store to 
look as good as Ryan’s saloon. We ’ll have things 
great.” 

The window looked fine inside, and he got out the 
ladder and cleaned it outside. 

“ They make you work, do n’t they?” jeered a boy 
coming along the walk. 

Tom laughed. “ Work ’s easy enough.” 

“How slick you’re fixing up!” said a woman, 
coming across the street to investigate. 

“Yes. We’re going to get in a lot of things. 
To-morrow afternoon we ’re going to have an open- 
ing; low prices. Come over.” 

“Well, I will.” 

“ That sounded good enough,” chuckled Tom. 


BOWER^S AGENT 135 

“If Mrs. Bower will agree we’ll run the business 
to-morrow.” 

Tom polished everything that would polish, and 
scrubbed nearly everything that would scrub, and 
was a very red-faced, perspiring boy when Mrs. 
Bower came home. 

“What have you been doing, Tom?” she ex- 
claimed. 

“ How ’s this ?” wiping his wet face. “ Pretty clean 
store! We ’re pretty near out of everything. After 
they ’re in bed let ’s plan a new start.” 

Mrs. Bower’s face looked younger and more 
hopeful. The crowding, sickening worry of things 
seemed to have dropped from her; she was by 
nature energetic, and it did her good to feel that she 
had a little energy left. 

“ I ’ll get a real good bite of supper for us, if you 
can watch out for Bobby, and we ’ll see about things 
afterwards. You ’ve made it look powerful slick. 
Bobby chirked up wonderful on the cars — clapped 
his hands twice.” 

The breeze was at the front of the store, and Tom 
sat on the step holding Bobby and talking to him in 
a soothing, funny way that brought more than one 
smile to the wan face. 

It made Tom think of the way John talked to the 
babies he minded, and his eyes filled with such a 
sudden mist that he saw two Bobbies and strange, 
wavering buildings across the street. 


136 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


'‘Who ’d ever thought I ’d care ’s much as that?” 
and Tom, more than half ashamed, wiped his eyes 
on the top of Bobby’s head. 

After the children were asleep Mrs. Bower went 
with Tom into the store and admired his new 
arrangements. 

"Where do you get your stock?” asked Tom. 

"We get it from the best place there is. I got 
Robert to do that. It ’s the Capital Wholesale Gro- 
cery Co.” 

"Have you got anything to buy more with?” 

"Yes; Robert had enough to pay next month’s 
rent and renew the stock, and that ’s all.” 

"That’s enough. We’re going to make money 
now. Did you ever buy the things? ” 

"No ; I ’m afraid I ’d buy foolish the first time.” 

"I think I could buy all right. I made a list of 
what we needed.” 

Mrs. Bower looked relieved. To leave Bobby for 
so long, especially as she wanted to go to the hospi- 
tal in the afternoon, seemed to be something she 
could n’t do. 

" I ’ll give you the money he set out for the stock, 
and you start early to-morrow and do the best you 
can with it. I sha’n’t blame you if you do n’t get 
everything just right.” 

" Oh, I ’ll do well,” was the prompt and confident 
answer. "And I told some of the customers we 
were going to have an opening to-morrow afternoon. 


BOWERS S AGE ATT 


137 


and for everybody to come, and we ’ll make it look 
good in here — swell, you know.” 

Tom’s head buzzed all that night with successes in 
trade. He bought and sold and made money and 
rejoiced. 

The Capital Wholesale Grocery establishment 
looked very grand to Tom the next morning, not 
because he was not familiar with the appearance of 
such buildings, but because he was going to do busi- 
ness there. He had washed his things the night be- 
fore, and was gratified beyond expression in the 
morning to find that Mrs. Bower had ironed them. 

He was wholly unused to ironed wearing-apparel, 
and he was keenly alive to the dignity of the situ- 
ation. 

He found the proper entrance and saw a man who 
seemed to him to be a person high in authority. 

I come from Bower’s store,” said Tom, as impres- 
sively as possible, giving the address. 

The clerk could scarcely suppress a smile, for he 
remembered Bower. They made a point of accu- 
rately placing all the store-keepers with whom they 
dealt and their representatives. He remembered the 
harassed, weak-looking man, with his pitiful list of 
groceries, the smallest order they had ever been 
asked to fill — a man with whom they would deal 
simply on a cash basis, as failure was written all over 
him. 

‘‘Have you cash?” he asked courteously. 


138 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Oh, yes,” smiled Tom, almost forgetting his dig- 
nity; then he added confidentially, “You know all 
about this business, do you?” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ I mean you know how small stores buy, and 
where Bower’s store is? People buy ten cents’ worth.” 

“Yes; I know.” 

“ I ’m glad of that,” moving still closer. “ Now I 
never bought before. I know what we want, and 
I ’ve got a list, but if you know the ropes I ’d rather 
feel as though you ’d help me buy right, and not let 
me make a fool of myself, than I would to try to be 
so everlastin’ sharp and smart myself.” • 

A gleam of amusement shone in the man’s eyes. 
He clapped his hand on Tom’s shoulder. 

“All right, my boy. You may place the most 
implicit confidence in my judgment. Now, then, for 
your list. All right, sir. Regular round — tea, coffee, 
sugar, flour, raisins, crackers, rice, cornmeal, starch, 
soap. And you’ve got it divided all up; and that’s 
the amount you ’re to spend, is it? It doesn’t take it 
all.” 

“ I wanted to have some left over, so if you had 
anything that would sell off quick, that was cheaper 
than usual, I could buy some for a draw.” 

“ I see. We will discuss the matter.” 

“ And if there ’s pictures and things go with any- 
thing I buy, I want ’em, to make the store look 
pretty.” 


BOJVER'S AGENT 


139 


It shall be remembered.” 

“You’re mighty polite,” said Tom, admiringly. 

“ Undoubtedly.” 

“We want to have an opening this afternoon,” 
said Tom, hastily seized with a sudden fear lest his 
things could not be delivered until the next day. 

“You’re in plenty of time,” was the grave reply. 
“Your things shall be delivered by 1 1 : 30 .” 

They had moved into a room given over to canned 
things and glass jars of pickles. 

“ Now, if I may make a suggestion, the stores in 
your and similar districts invariably do a big busi- 
ness in pickles, and tinned meats, and canned goods. 
If you will permit me to make a selection of such 
things as will sell most readily and leave you the 
largest profit, and cut down some of your flour, 
which you will sell very little of now, you will make 
a good thing of it.” 

Tom had been hankering desperately to have 
some such things in the window and acquiesced 
with zeal. 

He raised his eyes to look down the room and 
glanced through an open door to an offlce-like 
room beyond. A gentleman stood there in the full 
light marking in a note-book. 

Tom’s eyes were riveted on the gentleman’s face. 
There he was — the man he had roused from sleep in 
his own room ; the man from whom he had run away 
to find Reddy. He had promised that he would go 


140 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


back, and he would go back, but not till Reddy was 
safe. Everything might explode around him now. 
Perhaps he was a sort of burglar himself, or perhaps 
the gentleman thought so, and if he saw him and 
kept him — Reddy and Mrs. Bower and all ! He felt 
weak all over. 

'‘Who is he?’' he asked, feeling as though his 
voice must sound queer. 

The clerk looked up. "That man? He is the 
owner of the whole concern, the grand mogul.” 

"Am I through now?” Tom hoped he was. 

" I have been thinking of your draw — your bar- j 
gain. We have something in gingersnaps that j 
might prove profitable.” 

"And I want an extra lot of small paper bags and 
string, too.” 

Finally the order was all filled out, the bill paid 
and receipted, and Tom was away without having 
seen his midnight acquaintance closer, or having 
been seen by him. 

" I don’t like to feel that way,” Tom thought im- 
patiently. "Just as soon as Reddy can take care of 
himself and can get off, I ’m going to see him and 
tell him why I ran. It makes me mad!'' 

Mrs. Bower waited for Tom with some trepidation. 
After he had gone she began to think she was very 
foolish to entrust the spending of their whole fortune 
to a twelve-year-old boy. She even had fleeting fears 
that he might disappear entirely, money and all. But 




BOWER^S AGEATT 


141 


I of those she was ashamed. She was watching for him 
by the store door when he returned, and at the sight 
of his resolute, honest-looking face her doubts dis- 
appeared. 

How did you get along? ” she asked eagerly. 

First-rate. You ’ll be delighted. Do n’t seem ’s 
j| though I could wait for the things to come.” 

He did not have to wait long. Inside of ten min- 
) utes up rattled the imposing wagon of the Capital 
Wholesale Grocery Co., drawn by two Clydesdale 
horses, and Tom’s purchases were unloaded with 
: respect and landed in the store. Daisy stood staring, 

F open-eyed and excited, and even Bobby staggered 
through the door to his mother to see what was 
going on. 

Tom ripped the cover off one box in a hurry and 
found the top packed with his paper bags; under 
: them lay a great quantity of pink and white strings, 
and blue and white and green tissue paper. 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed everybody ; Bobby and Daisy 
with unqualified delight, Tom with astonishment, and 
Mrs. Bower with a sinking fear lest all the purchases 
, might be of that description. There was a note 
pinned to the tissue. It read : 

, R. M. Bower’s Agent. 

!| Dear Sir : — Please accept accompanying decorations for your 
j establishment. Our firm will be glad to retain your custom and 
I hope to be able to serve you with satisfaction. 

Very respectfully, 

: The Capital Wholesale Grocery Co. 


142 


HIS BEST FRIEHD 


Mrs. Bower read it with a bewildered expression 
when Tom handed it to her. This was courtesy 
indeed. 

It ’s a present ! WonH we fix, though ! ” burst 
out Tom. ‘^And here are the pictures I spoke for.” 
He drew out one after another of the very prettiest 
advertising panels printed, — pictures of things he 
had not bought, or thought of buying. Bobby 
clapped his hands and laughed and was so happy 
that his mother grabbed him, pressed him close to 
her, and proceeded to burst into tears. 

‘‘Why, what ever is the matter?” asked Tom, 
greatly distressed. 

“ Nothing but foolishness,” half sobbed Mrs. 
Bower; “but I Ve hardly ever seen ’em happy, 
we ’ve had such hard times, and we ’ve been so 
gloomy, and when I saw how happy he could be, 
I could n’t stand it.” 

“ Do n’t that beat all !” said Tom meditatively. “ I 
should have thought you would have laughed. If 
you ’d just let my Friend live with you and help 
things along you would feel cheerful all the time, 
even when things looked black.” 

“ You do n’t mean Reddy? ” in surprise. 

“Oh, not Reddy,” laughing. “Jesus Christ, his 
name is.” 

Mrs. Bower looked at him, speechless for a 
moment. “What ever do you mean?” 

“I mean he came to the earth to show the people 


BOWER^S AGENT 


143 


' how to live/' He sat back on the floor looking 
earnestly at Mrs. Bower, while Daisy and Bobby 
g gazed wonderingly at the pictures. After he did 

1 what he had to do, and left the earth, he is a friend 
)l to every one that loves him and wants him — a close 
^ stay-with-you friend, I mean, one that counts for 
E more than anything else beside.” 

I was brought up myself to go to church and 
\\ say my prayers and read my Bible,” said Mrs. Bower 

2 slowly, but it seemed to be for folks that got along 
r well, and prospered, and had time for such things ; 

' and we had such a hard time I let it all slip. What 
do you mean by he ’s your friend? ” 

‘'He's my Friend.” Tom flushed slightly. 

“ I strictly believe it,” said Mrs. Bower quietly. “ I 
j might have known it was n't just ordinary boy-nature 
j: to be all you 've been to me.” 

Tom was taken up with his unpacking again. The 
box had the pickles and canned things in it, and Tom 
glowed with pride as he got them out. 

Mrs. Bower was doubtful. Robert never bought 
those things. He said they were too fine, 
j “You 'll see,” was the confident answer. “ They 'll 
' sell like fun. We've got the other things, too. I got 
a heap for the money. Let 's get up our trimmings 
and pictures and put some of this tissue on the 
shelves before we unpack, and then we can hustle 
right ahead.” 

With hammer and tacks and the ladder Tom fes- 


144 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


tooned the window, while the children hopped up 
and down with delight ; the pictures were put up to 
the best advantage, the clean papers were put on the 
shelves, and the change from the gloomy, dirty lit- 
tle store to the bright, clean, festive place of Tom’s 
machinations was miraculous. 

Tom, you do beat all ! It ’s beautiful,” ejaculated 
Mrs. Bower. What would Robert say?” 

Then the window was fixed with the two pies 
and two cakes Mrs. Bower had bought, pyramids of 
pickle-jars and tinned things, the box of fresh raisins, 
temptingly displayed, and the half-dozen lemons. 
The other boxes were unpacked, and when Tom 
had weighed out half his stock into ten-cent pack- 
ages all ready to hand over to the customers, he felt 
as though a long advance on old methods had been 
made. 

Already children were swarming in front of the 
window, attracted by the novel delicacies. The 
candy jars shone and were filled with delicious- 
looking confections in all colors, and there were 
two delectable piles of gingersnaps marked five 
cents a pound. 

They ’d ought to sell for more,” said Mrs. 
Bower. 

No ; that’s our draw. They ’ll all begone this 
afternoon, you see, and we ’ll make a good profit on 
them, too.” 

You ’re working so hard I ’ll get us all something 


BOWERS S AGENT 


145 


to eat that ’ll be tasty ; you see.” And she bustled 
in the direction of her cook-stove with more the air 
of the energetic girl she had once been than her hus- 
band would have believed possible. 

Maybe it would have been better if I ’d held on 
to my religion more,” she thought, as she made her 
preparations. ‘‘ Maybe it would have helped us 
bear up and keep spirit. But Robert not knowin’ 
nor carin’ much about such things, and my bein’ sort 
of shy and diffident about it, and us havin’ such hard 
times, and nothin’ goin’ right — well, well, maybe it 
ain’t too late to begin again. The good Lord cer- 
tainly was doing for me when he sent that blessed 
boy. His Friend ! Bless him ! I never had no such 
feeling as that. But he ’s his friend if he ’s friend to 
any one, I ’m thinkin’ ! ” 

After dinner Mrs. Bower put on what of elegance 
she possessed, also a clean dress on each of the chil- 
dren, and sat down peacefully in her back room to 
await developments. Tom took up Reddy’s dinner 
and gave him all the attention he could, running on 
in an excited way about the store and how well it 
looked and how much he hoped they would sell. 
Reddy was enough better so that though weak all 
his natural impulsiveness and restlessness were in full 
sweep again. 

'' I ’d like to see it,” he said wistfully. 

I just wish you could.” 

I believe I could be up just as well as not.” 

10 


146 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


It won’t hurt your wound any, if you feel like it” 

Perhaps she would n’t want me around.” 

Perhaps not. Tom would ask. 

Could Reddy sit down here a little, if he felt able 
to after he was up, Mrs. Bower? He could amuse 
Bobby real nice if you were busy, and I know you 
will be.” 

Of course he can,” was the cordial answer. ‘T ’ll 
go tell him so.” 

Reddy’s blue eyes, his boyish dependence of man- 
ner in his weakness, his quick responsiveness to every 
overture, had enlisted Mrs. Bower’s sympathy. It was 
so long since she had had any interest or sympathy 
for any one outside her own little hard-pressed cir- 
cle that this new element aroused her keenly. 

I ’ll be glad to have you come down, Reddy. I 
washed and ironed your shirt for you, and you ’ll like 
it.” 

Reddy flushed and smiled. 

‘‘You’re good,” he said simply. 

So he sat down in the back room and saw all the 
beauties of the store. 

Tom had printed some placards and stuck them 
up outside, bearing legends: “Grand Opening,” 
“Everybody Welcome,” “Prices to Suit All,” 
“ Choice Goods,” “ Low Prices.” 

These signs had made quite a stir in the neigh- 
borhood. People were going to turn out. It was 
actually exciting. A bevy of women came first, not 


BOWER^S AGENT 


147 


in loose gowns and Mother Hubbard wrappers and 
dirty aprons and unadorned necks, but in up-town 
array, chatting and curious and interested. The 
store was full and children waited impatiently, 
pressing their noses against the window, fearful lest 
everything would be gone before their turn came. 
Everybody bought things. And nearly every one 
wanted to secure something “ a bit fancy,” a relish, 
a little jar or can of something. Every one praised 
the store. Mrs. Bower received compliments galore 
on her enterprise, on her appearance, on the cheap- 
ness and excellence of her goods, on Daisy’s ap- 
pearance, on everything. She smiled and her eyes 
brightened and she grew young in the success of it 
all. The reports spread fast and finally it seemed as 
though every house and even every room on the 
street had sent in a purchaser. The children spent 
their pennies without stint, and the gingersnaps, 
raisins, and candy grew beautifully less. 

When it got to be so near supper time that trade 
dwindled and finally ceased, Tom looked at Mrs. 
Bower with an expressive gesture. She followed the 
motion of his hand. The half of their ordinary 
commodities that Tom had done up in small pack- 
ages to expedite matters was almost entirely gone. 
Not a canned treasure remained of any description. 
The baker’s wares had vanished. The six lemons 
were no more. They could have sold more of all 
their fancy groceries, if they had had them to sell. 


148 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


I never in all my life ! said Mrs. Bower, sol- 
emnly. 

'' Nor I never ! 

Nor I never,’' came in a faint, amused voice, 
from the back room. 

Nor / never ! ” piped up Daisy, seized with the 
spirit of emulation. 

‘‘ I was expecting to go to the hospital to-day, but 
I ’ll be glad to have this to tell Robert when I do go.” 
Mrs. Bower felt a twinge of pity as she thought of it. 
Robert had never had any such success. He .had 
waited with weary eyes for the fewest of customers. 

When she went to the hospital last he had looked 
at her with burning, questioning eyes, and said, not 
bitterly, but hopelessly, “ How bright you look, Mol- 
lie, — so different. It’s me pulls you down so. I 
ought to have broken my neck* instead of my 
leg.” 

What ’s the matter?” asked Tom, noticing her 
change of expression. 

'‘Oh, it’s Robert! ” cried she, impelled to speak. 
It had been pent up so long. “ He ’s so discouraged 
and he never gets along, and everything he touches 
comes to nothing. He is n’t like other men.” 

"Does he drink?” asked Tom. That was what 
ailed men he knew who could n’t get along. 

"No,” too sad to be .indignant. "You don’t 
know how good he is. I do n’t appreciate it. He 
never touched a drop. He do n’t smoke, he never 


BOITE/^^S AGEIsri' 


149 


goes anywhere nor has anything; he saves every- 
thing for me and the children ; when we ’d be so 
awful behind sometimes he ’d pretend he could n’t 
eat, when he was starving. He ’s so patient, and he 
tries everything, and he is n’t very strong, and he ’s 
so — so easy touched, and so ready to think he ’s 
looked down on, and so sure he ’s no good, and he 
never has made a livin’, and I was brought up to 
things comfortable and so was he, and we just went 
*down and down. We had another boy next Daisy, 
Willie, and I never saw anybody love anything as he 
loved him. He just dreamed of him nights, and he 
worked so hard, hoping to get forehanded so Willie 
could have things. And he ’d carry him and carry 
him, and keep him with him every minute, and his 
first thought was Willie. One day when he was 
pretty near two years old Robert dropped him — 
dropped him in a queer, awful way so he struck on 
the back of his head, and Willie was stupid for days, 
and Robert pretty near went crazy. Oh, what I did 
live through ! ” wringing her hands at the thought of 
it. And when Willie came around he was n’t 
bright any more — just moaned for me, and he did n’t 
know his father, and turned from him — oh, I can’t 
tell about it! — and he lived ^two months that way, 
and died. And I was glad he died. I could n’t 
stand the misery of seeing Robert look at him — and 
it was such a cheap little box he was buried in — all 
Robert could get. And he held that box every 


150 


HIS BEST FRIEISTD 


minute until it was put in the grave; just staring at 
that little dead face. And it seems as though he ’s 
never got out of it. He went on, but in such a dead, 
hopeless way. And Bobby — he loves Bobby and 
looks at him, but he ’s never lifted him nor held him 
once. He ’s afraid to, I guess. But I Ve been aw- 
ful weak and sick times back, and it seemed as 
though I could n’t stand it sometimes not to get a 
mite of help about Bobby, but I did n’t know what 
to do. You poor child, I did n’t ought to have tolcJ 
you all that,” for Tom was standing by the counter, 
near the stool Mrs. Bower was sitting on, and his lips 
were quivering and big tears stood in his eyes threat- 
ening to roll down. 

‘‘Jesus could have helped him. He’s just the 
kind Jesus could help more than any other. Why 
did n’t you tell him ? ” 

She looked at Tom a long time. “I did n’t under- 
stand it as you do. I do n’t believe, except to say to 
myself sometimes ‘ God help me,’ that I ever thought 
of help from anywhere once — not once.” 

When they went into the back room Tom was 
sure he saw Reddy’s shoulders shake. Reddy was 
lying on the sofa, face to the back. Tom spoke to 
him, but Reddy did n’t answer. 

“Poor lad, he’s asleep. Do n’t wake him,” said 
Mrs. Bower, gently. 

“ No asleep about that,” thought Tom. “ He heard 
her,” and his whole heart cried out, “ Help that man ! 


BOWER'S AGENT 


151 

You can; don’t you ache to do it? Oh, how you 
must have wearied to have him know how ready you 
were ! Let me help you, let me let him know about 
you ; help me hdp you just once ! ” 


CHAPTER XI 


THE KRAFS 

John ran down the street toward Mother Tide’s 
stand as fast as he could go. He was thin and pale 
from the intense heat and the close air of the streets 
and of their tenement, but he had not been sick and 
his face was quite a happy little face. 

‘‘Mother Tide,” he cried, “what do you think? 
Guess ! You never can !” 

“No, then, I’m thinkin’ I never can. You’ll 
have to be tellin’ me !” 

“ It ’s a letter, a letter for you ! I had to come 
tell you. I could n’t bring it, because Kathie 
would n’t let go. It ’s almost time for you to go 
home.” 

“ How ’s Kathie feelin’ the day, Johnnie?” 

“ She did n’t feel very well until the letter came. 
Now she ’s bright as a dollar.” 

Kathie was still as bright as a dollar when they 
reached her. She was holding the letter as though 
it might accidentally get away from her. 

“ Oh, grannie, quick ! open it quick !” 

“And who do you think wrote it?” asked Mother 
Tide, looking at the envelope curiously. 

152 


THE KRAFS 


153 


Why, Tom !” exclaimed both the children at 
once. 

The old woman’s face fell. She had thought per- 
haps she had heard from Billy at last. However, if 
it was Tom she would be glad to hear from him. 
She could not read herself, but she opened the letter 
carefully and handed it to John. 

And John slowly read : 


Dear Mother Lide and Kathie and John : 

If I had thought of writing a letter before I would have done 


it, but I didn’t think of it until to-day. How is Kathie? I 
have thought of you all all the time. The night I went for the 
doctor two men grabbed me for seeing them do something, and 
brought me here. Mother Lide, one of the men was your boy 
Billy He was going to do more things but he got shot a little, 
easy, and he has been sick, but I have taken care of him and 
he’s all right now. I hope he won’t be bad anymore. I 
do n’t know sure, but I think he ’s sick of burgling. I like him. 
I mean to stick right to him for you and Kathie. I think he 
yill be a good man. He do n’t know I ’m writing to you and 
I sha’ n’t tell him, for he acts ashamed, but you need n’t worry 
while I am with him. 

John, I have lots to tell you. You are the best boy I know. 
How are Jim and Dan and all the fellows? Kathie, I want to 
see you. How are the plants? I dream of you all at night. 
I shall be home soon, when I can get Billy to come. We call 
him Reddy. 

Good-by, 


Tom. 


Mother Lide sat in a rocking-chair, her apron 
thrown over her head, her face in her hands, rocking 
to and fro. 


154 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


‘^Grannie, grannie, what’s the matter?” cried 
Kathie, after she had recovered sufficiently from the ^ 
first ecstacy of hearing the letter to notice her grand- 
mother. 

'' It ’s a glad and a sad woman I am ! ” half sobbed 
the old woman. I must be by myself the while j 
and take you no notice till I bid you.” 

She turned her chair toward the bed and sat | 

there. After a moment’s awed pause John read the 
letter again and again. It seemed as though Kathie 
could not tire of it. Finally, she stretched out her 
thin, little blue-veined hand and took the letter; she 
held it before her with the air of a connoisseur ; her 
reddish curls burned in the red glow from the west- 
ern sky, her pale, bright little face was all alive with * 
interest and fun. She began to read the letter her- 
self from memory ; when she slipped up on a word 
John set her right. 

“ Did you ever hear such a good letter, John?” 

Never.” 

It was the first letter for either of them. 

It ’s written with a pencil on wrapping paper. 

He cut it with the scissors.” 

It ’s just addressed to Mother Lide, but as long 
as the street and number are all right of course she 
got it. I guess he did n’t know any other name. I 
do n’t.” 

know it,” said Kathie; 'Gt ’s Lidedell. Can’t 
you answer it right off?” 


THE KRAFE 


155 


We have n’t got any paper nor any pencil nor 
any envelope, but I ’ll get some to-morrow if I get a 
baby to mind or an errand.” 

They talked on until the light had nearly faded. 
Then Mother Tide rose and came forward. The 
round, faded old face was smiling again. 

Faith, childer, it ’s a glad woman I am ! I ’ll not 
be ungrateful ! Tom ’s a blessed bit of a boy, and 
the Lord ’ll repay him.” 

‘‘Tom won’t want no pay,” said John, quickly. 

“ He’s a good boy; and you’re another, Johnnie. 
I used to think Tom was cut out for the gallows, but 
he ’s took a turn.” 

Then she got their supper and the children looked 
at all the plants again before they went to bed. The 
slips all grew but one, and that one caused Kathie 
many very salt tears. The seeds came up beautifully, 
and Dr. Gray affirmed that Kathie’s interest in her 
plants kept her alive through the heat. 

The next day, toiling up the tenement-house stairs 
to Kathie, came a very welcome visitor, Frau Kraf. 
It was the first time she had been there since she 
moved, and though Kathie had great faith that Frau 
Kraf would come, John and Mother Lide had little 
expectation of it. 

“Mein goot leetle maid. Ich glat, ver’ glat zu see 
again. Ich kom,” she cried out, embracing Kathie 
and weeping over her in true German fashion. “You 
so — so vat you say? — vite ! Hanschen look for 


156 


HIS BEST FRIEHD 


you/' and the old dame kept caressing her and 
exclaiming, while Kathie was beatifically happy to 
see her. 

Frau Kraf had come on an errand which she 
explained with the greatest difficulty, and had it not 
been that John turned up she probably could not 
have righted matters. She had come to say that 
they all wanted Kathie to come and stay a week at 
their house ; that they had a cot-bed for her ; and 
that they had a porch and a chair for her, and that 
the son had made a hammock of barrel-staves, and 
that it hung under a cherry tree and an apple tree, 
and that with a thick quilt and a pillow in it it would 
be comfortable for Kathie. 

Further, she could not come such a long distance 
twice, and if Kathie could get to the car Frau Kraf 
would take care of her and it would take them right 
to their door that very day 

Kathie gave little shrieks of joy. John, as soon 
as he understood the drift of the matter, ran for 
Mother Lide, and so great was Mother Lide's 
pleasure at the thought of helping get Kathie 
out near a tree for a week, that she broke up her 
stand at once and went home to see what she 
could do about it. 

A basket was packed with Kathie’s poor little 
worn clothes,^ her hair was tenderly brushed, and 
the clean little checked apron slipped on to make 
her nice for her car ride ; a handkerchief was tied 


THE KRAFS 


157 


over her bright curls, for she had no hat, and her 
very happiness almost brought tears to the eyes of 
Mother Lide and Frau Kraf. John was too happy 
himself in her joy to feel anything but glad. He 
secured Jim’s cart from Jim’s mother. They carried 
her carefully down, and she rode the six blocks to 
the car so smilingly contented that hardly any one 
could pass her without turning to look at her. 

O John, I wish Emily could go ; she never had 
such a good time as this.” 

Perhaps she did after the story stopped.” 

Perhaps,” assented Kathie. “ I think Emily 
would have thanked God right away, and I did n’t.” 

It is thanking him to be so glad about it,” said 
John. 

“ Oh, how nice ! You do know so much, John !” 

The car came and they lifted Kathie in beside 
Frau Kraf, and Frau Kraf, kindly and clean in her 
white neck-kerchief and great gingham apron, smiled 
at every one in the car as though to explain that it 
was a great day for the little Kathie, and Kathie 
waved her hands frantically to Mother Lide and 
John as the car started along. 

She had never had a car ride before, and when, 
after blocks and blocks of great city buildings, they 
came to smaller and quieter streets and then on to 
where there were hardly any stores but just rows of 
small brick houses, and then detached houses, and 
then little places with yards and trees, and finally a 


158 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


little house tucked away among vines and trees with 
great brilliant hollyhocks looking over the fence, 
and Gretchen Kraf by the gate holding a very clean 
little Hans, Kathie sighed aloud in despair of ever 
expressing her joy. The conductor patted her on 
the head as he very gently lifted her out, and she 
rode in Hans’ wagon right up to the porch, and they 
put her in such an easy chair, and Gretchen Kraf 
gave her a drink of milk and a cake. 

Kathie was a very exhausted little girl, indeed, 
but when they found how anxious she was to see 
the hammock under the cherry tree and the apple 
tree they took her out there and in a very few 
minutes the long, dark lashes were lying on the pale 
cheeks, and the little girl was having her first sleep 
outside of a city tenement. 

When John and Mother Tide turned from the spot 
where they had stood to watch Kathie’s waving 
hands, John found that the exhilaration of the epi- 
sode had entirely disappeared. The tenement with- 
out Tom or Kathie would be gloomy enough. Then 
he thought it must be worse for Mother Tide, and 
he slipped his hand inside hers. He had always 
been so reticent and undemonstrative that Mother 
Tide, with all her impulsiveness, was touched. 

''You’re a kind boy, Johnnie darlin’. You’ll save 
me a lonesome ache this week, you will.” 

" Say, Mother Lide, I wish Kathie had a hat.” 

"Faith, an’ I was thinkin’ that same. She’s niver 


THE KRAFS 


159 

had a hat, and it ’s a shame to her to be ridin’ in the 
car with no hat.” 

I ’m goin’ down town and look in all the sales, 
and see what I can get a hat for. I ’ll buy it if I can, 
and give it to Kraf on his car to take out, and then 
she can come home in it, anyway.” 

‘‘You’ve a big head. For a bye to plan I’ve 
never seen the likes of you. Now do that same.” 

That was why John went around gazing in 
store windows at hats. Hats were cheap, but he 
wanted to see what there was to be seen. Finally, 
in one of the big department stores, he saw a whole 
window full of white and of black flat hats ; very 
pretty indeed he thought they were, just what he had 
imagined he would like Kathie to have. And great 
cards announced “ Only ten cents ! Flats, reduced 
from thirty-nine cents!” 

Ten cents! Well, that was easy; but it would have 
to have something on it. He pushed on in through 
the crowd, traversing the length of the floor before 
he found the stairway, through all the smells of per- 
fumery, fresh candy, rubber goods, Japanese wares, 
and a general hot closeness composed of everything. 
When he found the hats he also found a very fresh, 
pretty-looking clerk at leisure. 

It was a shy voice she heard saying, “ Have you 
got anything pretty — real pretty — you could put on 
one of those ten-cent white flats that would n’t make 
it cost very much?” 


i6o 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Bless me, do you want to wear a flat?” she 
asked, laughing. 

He smiled as he said, I want one, but it's for a 
little girl. Have you?” 

Why, now, the cheapest pretty thing you could 
put on would be ribbon. We Ve got a big thing in 
ribbon to-day. Do you see that basket over there? 
Well, those ribbons are only three cents a yard, and 
they 're wide, too. Come and see.” 

She held up a very pretty blue ribbon, and John’s 
eyes opened wide with delight. It was immaterial 
to him that very few of the threads were silk, and 
that the ribbon was of a gauzier texture than would 
ordinarily have been considered desirable. It was a 
pretty color, he could see that. 

‘‘ Three yards would make three lovely rosettes 
and a cent left for an elastic. You ’d get a sweet, 
pretty hat for twenty cents.” 

“ Oh, I ’ll do it ! I know I can get twenty cents,” 
and John’s eyes shone. 

Have n’t you got the money?” 

No, I came in to see ; but I ’m sure I can get 
it.” 

‘‘Well, if you come in wait for me to wait on you 
and if I ’ve got time I ’ll fix it for you, unless you ’ve 
got somebody at home to do it.” 

“ Oh, I’ll be so glad !” and he went away radiant. 
He had five cents, he earned five more, and Mother 
Lide gave him ten, and the next noon while custom 


THE KRAFS 


i6i 


n was slack he found the pretty girl ready to wait on 
1 him. 

You have the money, have you?” 

1 Twenty cents,” and he handed it over to her. 

She got the hat and the ribbon, deftly twisted 
up the ribbon and pinned it on, took a threaded 
needle from her dress, where she had put it expressly 
in expectation of this trade, and sewed on the 
elastic. 

There! Pretty? Hasn’t taken a minute either. 
And all for twenty cents 1 Oh, you need n’t thank me. 
You ’re nicer than most boys.” 

She put the hat in a large paper bag, and John 
went smiling away, sure he would never forget that 
nice clerk if he lived forever. 

He could n’t help thinking, as he ran along toward 
Mother Tide, how much more friendly everybody 
seemed. He was really beginning to like people, 
and to like to have dealings with people. He knew 
why. He knew how things had gradually changed 
for him since Tom told him about Jesus Christ; how 
he had grown to feel that with Jesus to care for him, 
as he did for Emily’s family, life could never again 
' seem so desolate. 

John showed the hat to Mother Lide at the stand, 

; and the childlike old woman was lavish of her praise. 

It ’s an angel she ’ll look like entirely. Blue ’s 
i the color for the child. Oh, Johnnie, it ’s a wonder- 
ful hand you are to pick out hats ! I ’ll be thinking 


i 62 


HIS LEST FRIEND 


I’ll have a new one meself!” and she gave a pat to 
the dismal black bonnet she had worn for ten years. 

I do n’t know which Kraf’s car is, Mother Lide, 
and I’ll just have to go and wait, I guess.” 

‘‘ All right, Johnnie, and I ’ll not be tellin’ you not 
to get into any mischief.” 

After he had waited a long time he asked a motor- 
man of that line when Kraf would come, and was 
told that Kraf would leave there next at 5.10. When 
the car came, John swung up in the steps beside him. 

Can you take this out to Kathie ? It ’s a hat for 
her to wear home.” 

The good-hearted German smiled. 

De leedle child vill shust have too much shoy 
mit ein hat ! Das ist gut ! Aber, besser, you ride out 
init me and gif it to her. She like to see John. 
Hans like to see John. Die mutter and all like to 
see John. Kom !” 

haven’t any money,” was the regretful 

answer. 

‘‘Mein friend; you ride right here all right; gut. 
You sleep out door oder on porch, gut genug. Kom 
in morning mit me; gut.” He was jangling his bell, 
and John had all the bliss of feeling the car thrill 
under him as it started on its swift glide along the 
track. Would n’t Kathie be surprised ! Would n’t 
she like the hat ! Kraf was a brick, that was what he 
was. What would Tom say? 

Little Hans was the first one to see John get off 


THE KRAFS 163 

the car, and his joyful demonstrations attracted his 
mother’s attention to John. 

He made me come, Mr. Kraf did,” said John 
apologetically. He said I could bring Kathie’s 
hat myself.” 

And there was Frau Kraf the mother, and they 
hurried him through the house, and Kathie, sitting in 
a barrel-chair under the apple tree, screamed with joy 
at the sight of him. 

'' Oh, John ! How happy I am ! Oh, John !” 

Then they all waited while John drew out the hat 
to show Kathie. She clasped her hands and gazed 
in breathless admiration. Hans tried to grasp it, 
and Frau Gretchen and Frau Kraf praised it in Ger- 
man, and then put it on Kathie. And when the 
happy blue eyes looked out from under the broad 
brim, and the pale cheeks were flushed pink with 
excitement, and the reddish-brown curls tumbled 
every which way from under the white brim, John 
thought he had never seen anybody so pretty in his 
life, not even the pretty clerk. 

Oh, John, if only Emily and Tom and you and 
Grannie could have hats like this ! Do you think 
Emily ever had a hat like this?” 

After the story ended I think she did.” 

And I know she thanked God right away. 
Thank you, God, for my hat.” 

‘‘ Das ist recht,” said Frau Kraf approvingly, 
‘‘ Gott sei Dank.” 


1 64 HIS BEST FRIEND 

John slept on the porch and the next morning 
went back on Kraf’s second trip. It had been a 
time of unprecedented diversion, and John was so 
full of talk about it to Mother Lide that she ex- 
claimed over and over again : 

“ Hear the boy talk ! I ’d never be thinkin’ he 
could rattle like that.” But she was ready to hear it 
all as often as he could tell it, for the thought of her 
little pale Kathie sitting under a cherry tree and an 
apple tree, with some one to heed her all day long, 
was almost too good to be true. 

It was a long week, but the plants all throve and 
John got some new pictures to put upon the walls, and 
when Kathie rode up from the car in the box wagon, 
with her new hat on, the whole tenement turned 
out to welcome and admire. 


CHAPTER XII 


A SERVICE 

When Tom had to return so soon to The Capital 
Wholesale Grocery Co. to renew his goods, de- 
pleted by the opening, he did not go in so light- 
hearted a manner as before. He was afraid that he 
could not avoid meeting the owner of the establish- 
ment, and then what dreadful things would be in 
store for him he did not know. 

He saw the same clerk who had attended him 
before. The clerk looked at him with some sus- 
picion. He had a half wish that he had not been 
so cordial before if the boy was going to tres- 
pass. 

‘‘What’s the matter?” he asked rather shortly. 
“Anything wrong with the goods? ” 

“No; everything was right. We sold out too 
fast. Here is the list and the money. Will that be 
all right? I can’t stop.” 

The clerk regained his amiability, and asked him 
to see some new goods, but Tom declined and got 
away as fast as he could. 

“ I hurt his feelings at first, I guess,” meditated 
the clerk. 


65 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


1 66 

''Who was that?” asked the owner, stepping into 
the room. "Who was talking in here?” 

" A boy — Bower’s agent.” 

" Oh ! ” in a puzzled way. " It sounded like a 
boy I ’m looking for.” 

" I ’ll catch him and bring him to you next time 
he comes, if you like, sir.” 

"Well, no matter; just a mistake on my part, I 
suppose.” 

Reddy was well enough to be up and out, but he 
was unfit for any steady work. He was restless. 
He could n’t bear to be doing absolutely nothing, 
and he missed the excitements and uncertainties he 
had so long been accustomed to. 

" I wish I knew where Brown is,” he said one day. 

Tom felt a cold chill. 

"He’ll grow so uneasy he’ll get into another 
scrape, and Doctor Rogers sayin’ only yesterday 
that if he did anything rash, or drank, or overworked, 
or got cold, he ’d be down sicker than he was before. 
What can he do? If only John was here he’d think 
of something. A boy that spends all his time just 
thinking can get up ideas.” 

That evening Mrs. Bower resolved on making 
some gingerbread. She said she used to make the 
best gingerbread that could be made. Reddy sat 
rather gloomily and watched her operations. His 
face softened as he thought of something that hap- 
pened when he was a little boy, Tom was watching 


A SERVICE 


167 

as eagerly as Daisy and Bobby. There were no 
customers and he had never seen gingerbread 
made. 

I used to cook up things when I was a little 
shaver,” said Reddy, suddenly. 

‘^Did you?” asked Tom, in surprise. 

‘‘Yes, I did a thrivin’ business for a while. I 
made molasses candy — good, I can tell you — and 
made it in different sized sticks and wrapped ’em in 
buttered tissue. Cent a stick, most of ’em. Some I 
pulled white and twisted, but most folks liked the 
straight, black molasses sticks — thought it had n’t 
been handled so much, I guess.” 

“Where did you sell?” 

“ Down at mother’s stand,” looking at Tom, but 
flushing. It was the first time he had ever really 
admitted that he was Mother Tide’s son. 

“ Do you remember how to make it?” 

“ Of course.” 

“See here, you make some to sell in the store, 
and, say, Mrs. Bower, if this gingerbread ’s good, 
you make some slabs of gingerbread, and we ’ll 
advertise it and it will sell like anything.” 

“I just believe it will,” was Mrs. Bower’s enthu- 
siastic reply. “ I can make it enough sight better 
than that baker’s trash.” 

Reddy began to be interested. “If you’ll let me 
have some molasses for myself for making a batch 
of candy for the store, I ’ll take it down by the trans- 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


1 68 

fer or post-office, or some place, on a tray, and see 
if I can sell some. I could sell gingerbread, too, 
maybe, if I got any start.” 

Tom slapped his hand on his trouser leg. 

“ Good enough ! Begin to-morrow, will you ? ” 

The plans of the evening were uncommonly viva- 
cious and early the next morning Reddy was at 
work on his candy. He made a nice lot for the 
store first, all done up in very attractive style, and 
then he loaded up his tray — a board suspended by a 
strap from his shoulders. The board was neatly 
covered with clean wrapping paper, and his candy 
looked as temptingly eatable as could have been 
desired. 

“Oh, yes,” he said, in answer to Mrs. Bower’s 
admiring questions; “people used to buy me out 
quick and they said it was because it looked so 
good.” 

Tom gave him many anxious injunctions to walk 
slow and keep out of the sun, and not stay too long, 
and to be sure and not go near a saloon. 

“No; I won’t drink anything while I’m here. I 
never cared anything about drinking liquor. Rather 
have something else any day.” 

But Tom doubted it. 

Reddy was home by dinner time, sold out, tired, 
and very cheerful. He had found a good place, and 
had got a license, and was sure he could sell a good 
supply of both molasses candy and gingerbread. 


A SERVICE 


69 


Tom was not satisfied that Reddy was really on 
his feet again and was desperately anxious lest he 
should have a relapse. 

“ We Ve got to be getting out of here/’ he thought. 
‘^Mrs. Bower says her husband will be back in two 
weeks. Of course Reddy do n’t really earn his 
food here, anyway, and I do n’t believe I any more 
than earn mine, and there won’t be any need of me 
when Mr. Bower gets back. 2^ou tell me what to do.” 

A week before it had struck him that in all the 
time since he had seen Miss Roslyn he had never 
once done what she said, for she had told him that in 
any church or Sunday-school they could tell him 
about Jesus Christ, how he had lived on this earth, 
and what he had done. And I ’ve never been 
once,” he thought reproachfully. How could he 
have been so neglectful of knowing all he possibly 
could about his Friend? 

You ’ll think I do n’t care, and I do care ! ” 

Then he resolved to go the very next Sunday, as 
Reddy certainly did not need him to nurse him. So 
Sunday morning early, as clean as he could make 
himself, but conscious that his sadly worn shirt and 
trousers presented anything but a fine appearance, 
he started out to pick out a church. His clothes led 
him at first to think he would choose a small, poor 
church, but he gave that up. 

No, sir; clothes or no clothes, I ’m going to the 
best there is going. No telling for sure about these 


170 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


things, but it stands to reason that where they Ve 
got the finest church they Ve got the most money to 
spend educatin’ their teachers and folks, and I ’ll 
learn more for my money.” 

Having settled that matter to his satisfaction he 
wandered around, and by the time he had picked 
out a very handsome church to honor with his , 
presence he had wasted so much time that Sunday- ; 
school was already in session. The sound of singing : 
directed him and he entered a large Sunday-school 
room full of children and older people. He was 
quite dazzled by the sight of the white dresses, the 
fluttering ribbons of the most bewitching colors, the 
feathers, the curls, and the white collars and gorgeous ' 
neckties of the boys. It was a bewildering sight. 

My stars ! the money for all that ! ” he thought. 
He stood by the entrance as they sang the last 
song before the formation of classes, and at the close 
of the song the superintendent came down that way. 
He was walking with his hands behind him, medita- 
ting on what they could do to enlarge their Sunday- 
school membership and bring in outsiders. He 
almost stumbled over Tom. 

Why, why, my boy,” he hesitated in his astonish- 
ment. 

I ’ve come to your Sunday-school,” said Tom 
boldly. 

Delighted ! Welcome ! We ’re glad to see you ! ” 
But where should he put him? The best he 


A SERVICE 


171 

could imagine would be good-natured grins of 
amusement at the boy’s clothes from any class of 
boys in which he could put him. So far as he 
knew, there had never been a bare-footed boy inside 
the school before. 

‘‘More shame to us!” he thought. “However, 
we ’ve got a teacher that will do — and that ’s the 
main thing,” and he led Tom to a class of boys 
about his own age. 

“ Miss Roslyn, a new boy,” he said, and hastily 
retreated. 

Miss Roslyn looked up with a smile into Tom’s 
brown eyes. They gazed at each other speechless a 
moment while it seemed as though a little electrical 
current leaped from one to the other. 

“ Tom!'' she said, holding out her hand. 

“ Miss Roslyn ! ” he smiled, promptly taking it. 

“ I ’m so glad,” she said heartily. “ I ’ll ask 
questions later. Boys, this is a friend of mine from 
my old home and I ’m so glad to see him I ” 

The boys were all awake to some sort of a 
mystery and smiled pleasantly enough at Tom. A 
fellow must have a pretty good time whose folks let 
him off to Sunday-school looking like that. 

“ We must go on with our lesson now,” said Miss 
Roslyn, “ and it ’s a very interesting one, too. We 
won’t have any too much time.” 

The lesson was about King Joash, and it was 
interesting ; the boys’ attention never wavered once. 


172 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


blit the lesson was n’t in the least what Tom thought 
it would be. “ I ’ll just have to ask her afterwards,” 
he thought. 

I wonder if he ’ll get away from me after Sun- 
day-school,” thought Miss Roslyn. She knew street 
boys were slippery. So when the other boys were 
filing out in order, when her class was called, she 
held on to Tom’s arm. 

I want to talk to you,” she said, smiling. 

She led him to a little room which was unoccupied 
just then, the map room, and getting him well cornered 
in a comfortable chair she sat down in front of him. 

‘‘ Now, Tom, tell me all about it. Where have 
you been? How did you get here? ” 

Tom looked at her a moment, hesitatingly, then 
said frankly enough, T could tell you all about it. 
Miss Roslyn, but it would take a good while, and it 
would n’t do you a bit of good nor me either, and I 
just came in for one thing, just one thing, and I 
was n’t sure it would do a bit of good to come, but 
now you are exactly the one to tell me. There is n’t 
much time you can give me, I suppose. Miss Roslyn. 
I want you to tell me about” — he leaned forward, 
his eyes speaking more eloquently than his voice — 
I want you to tell me about Jesus Christ, all you 
can.” 

She felt as though her heart stood still a moment. 
She was n’t expecting it. She had put more of her- 
self into the words she had spoken to him that other 


A SERVICE 


173 


day than she had ever done for any one else before, 
and she had thought of it often, always convinced of 
a strange disproportion between what she had felt at 
the time and the effect it must have had on her 
listener. He must have forgotten it on leaving the 
house. Why had she been so earnest? 

Again the same intense desire to show him Jesus 
as she half consciously dreamed of him came to her. 

I will, Tom. I will tell y^ou all I can, but you 
must remember that I can only tell you my little 
view of him, can only tell you the way his life, his 
wonderful love, the beauty of it all, seem to me. 
Do n’t forget, if I fail, that that is not all there is to it. 
Others can tell you more and better, and by study- 
ing his words and life yourself, you will, with his 
help, know him best of all. 

But what I can, I will tell you. We will not try to 
talk now of why Jesus, the Son of God, Creator him- 
self, Lord of all, should, through love of us, offer 
himself a sacrifice for sin. We will only try to talk 
of him as he lived on earth, as we know of him from 
the gospels. 

‘‘We know this. Jesus was born on this earth, as 
other children are born, nearly two thousand years 
ago, in a country far away from here, called Pales- 
tine. Look, Tom,” and she rapidly rolled down great 
sheets from a wall-roll, reproductions from photo- 
graphs. 

“This is Bethlehem of Judaea, the place where he 


174 


N/S BEST FRIEND 


was born. You will read of it yourself, and any one 
can tell you of the Christ-child laid in a manger in a 
stable on Christmas night. That is why we keep 
Christmas ; it is Christ’s birthday. The angels sang 
in heaven, the lowliest shepherds came rejoicing, and 
wise kings from distant lands brought gifts. But, 
Tom, it was only the few. Can you understand 
that? Only a few then, and always, with open hearts 
to know the coming of our Lord. 

King Herod, the king of that country, tried to 
kill him, but that could not be. Jesus had come for 
another death than that. An angel told Joseph and 
Mary to take the little Jesus away. And they did.” 

She unrolled a copy of Hoffman’s Flight into 
Egypt” and beside it a Holy Family of Muller’s. 
Tom scarcely suppressed a cry of admiration. He 
was not used to pictures. The lovely face of the 
child thrilled him. It seemed like really knowing 
more of his Friend. 

^^Oh, Tom, why can’t I tell you better? I feel so 
helpless!” Tears stood in Laramie’s eyes and she 
made a gesture of despair. I feel the beauty of it 
so, and I can’t tell it. See, this is a picture of Naza- 
reth, another town. That is the town where they 
took the little Jesus when they returned from Egypt. 
That is where he lived all through his boyhood. 
Do you see it? Do you see the gray-green olive 
trees, the low stone walls, the flat-topped houses, the 
blue, blue sky, the warm mellow sunlight flooding it 


A SERVICE 


175 


all? Can’t you see how it was in those long ago 
days? His eyes looked on all this. Do you see that 
boy up there alone, looking off over all this, dreaming, 
planning, how can we tell what — but a boy surely?” 

There was no boy there, where Laramie pointed, 
but Tom saw his Friend and his heart yearned toward 
him. 

His home was simple, but it was the best 
home, a true home. Was n’t it happy where he 
was? There were other little children there, though 
many do not believe that, but I know it; and was 
there ever such a tender, loving, helpful brother as 
he was? Here, Tom, see,” unrolling another pic- 
ture ; along this road he walked with his people to 
Jerusalem to the Feast of the Passover. Do you 
see the rising hill, the level winding road, the rolling 
ground on this side ? He saw it all. It was the best 
boy life ever lived, the truest, the bravest, the purest. 
He grew up, becoming more fitted each day for his 
three years of work. And when that three years 
came and the work began, was there ever 'such 
strength, such endurance, such steadfast courage, 
such perfect self-control? 

His work was the hardest sort of work. It was 
teaching us to live the way we arc. He did what 
was just before him. He chose for his disciples the 
men right under his hand, those nearest to him. 
He spent his time teaching and healing and helping 
those around him just as they came to him, the sick. 


176 


ms BEST FRIEND 


the poor, the needy, the wretched, the wrong-doers. 
He taught the simplest truths, the plainest paths, and 
yet, Tom, — can you understand? — still only the few 
could receive them, only the few could heed and 
know him as he was. And are n’t you sure that they 
were the happy ones of earth? I am. 

And all the time that he worked and taught, the 
factious ones, the carping, jealous ones, the powerful 
ones of that little country were combining against 
him, were plotting, planning against him.” 

'' Why?” burst out Tom. 

‘‘Why? What is easier to believe or harder to 
explain? Isn’t it so now? How much more so 
then? Jesus was infinitely great! Wouldn’t you 
have said, ‘ Crush them, ruin their plans, spoil their 
plots?’ But he, when he was ready, when he had 
taught his people all that they could receive, when 
his disciples needed his presence in the spirit more 
than his presence in the body, then, bravely, quietly, 
he faced the doom his enemies had prepared, and 
that he was fully ready to accept. 

“No, Tom, dear; I shall not try to tell you all 
that. You must read it. You will know all about it, 
the agony in the garden, the desertion by all his friends, 
the tribunal, the condemnation, the crucifixion — that 
was their capital punishment in those days — the cry- 
ing out of the very earth at the horror of it, the despair 
and gloom of his disciples, the burial in the tomb, the 
resurrection on the third day as he had promised, his 


A SERVICE 


177 


presence for a while longer to reassure and appeal to 
the earthly sense of his poor followers, the final leaving 
of earth as a bodily presence, and his mission to all 
as Friend, Comforter, Strength. For, ‘ Lo, I am with 
you alway, even unto the end of the world. 

She had spoken very rapidly, in a low, eager tone, 
Tom’s eyes rarely leaving hers, his breath coming 
faster at times, his cheek flushing or paling. He 
did not understand all she said. He would remem- 
ber very little, perhaps. But his horizon was im- 
measurably widened. 

Laramie stopped ; a strangely beautiful sound 
reached them — a clear, melodious note. 

Come,” she said softly, and taking his hand she 
led him from the little room, across the Sunday- 
school room, to one of the doorways where he could 
look right into the church. It was crowded. The 
waving of fans, the smell of faint, sweet perfumes 
and flowers, the soft air from the many open spaces, 
the subdued light filtering through memorial win- 
dows, the vanishing lines of the far-away roof with 
its dark beams, the something that expressed deco- 
rous attention among that great congregation — Tom 
felt it all in a vague way, but he was looking straight 
toward the choir, and listening, carried away out of 
himself by the sweetness of it, to the clear voice 
singing, every word clean-cut as a cameo. 


“ One there is above all others — above all others 


178 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Tom scarcely knew whether it was one voice or 
many that sang on. 

“Well deserves the name of friend” — 

Tom leaned forward; Laramie still held his arm. 

“ His is love beyond a brother’s, 

Costly, free, and knows no end.” 

And then again, many voices he thought, but still 
so faultlessly clear, 

“ His is love beyond a brother’s. 

Costly, free, and knows no end.” 

Tom’s eyelashes were wet, and his lips were parted. 

Laramie was listening to it through his ears. I 
never heard anything like that before,” she thought, 
marveling. I heard it just as he heard it, fresh, 
new, understanding it, believing it, adoring.” 

Tom had never heard a prayer before. When the 
minister, a very earnest man, and one who impressed 
every one as such, began the prayer, and the church 
became more hushed than before, the slight flutter- 
ing of fans alone making itself heard, Tom knew and 
understood. Every word stamped itself on his heart 
and something leaped within him and answered to 
the words of supplication : 

Give us, we pray thee, that sweet sense of thy 
protecting nearness, of thy comforting presence, 
that we may never be discouraged or cast down.” 

That was it. It had been vouchsafed to Tom. In 
spirit he prostrated himself before the infinite love, 


A SERVICE 


179 


the wonderhil goodness of Him who came near him 
at all points, who in a very boy-life satisfied and 
understood and blessed his boy-nature. In a very 
outpouring his heart seemed to say, I love You for 
it so. I know what you were. I know how it is all 
there in you — what you lived and did and suffered, 
and the glory of all heaven and earth in and through 
and behind you, and I love you so for coming to me 
just as you arc — me. I could n’t live without you 
now. I want to do the best way, like you live !” 

Laramie drew him into a seat beside her after the 
prayer was over, and she heard the sermon and the 
singing as he heard it. It was a rarely strange expe- 
rience. The eagerness, the absorption, the quick 
conception of what it all meant, the breathless atten- 
tion. She never had attended a service like that. 
Was it any better than she heard Sunday after Sun- 
day? She believed not. The obscure pew became 
consecrated ground. More than one boy sat there. 
A boy Jesus, as Tom knew him, was there. Rever- 
ently she bowed her head. Hot color flushed her 
face. It was true. A deepening sense of things as 
they were came to her. As though lifted a little 
higher, or able to see a little less dully, she realized 
the Christ-spirit, the present, yearning, loving One. 
And had it not always been so? And were there 
some who knew it? Happy they, as in days of old, 
and her heart bowed itself in shame and cried out, 
“God help me, God help me!” Could she be so 


i8o 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


dull, so blind, again? Not quite the same, per- 
haps. 

When the service was over and the smiling, ele- 
gant, quietly conversing audience melted away, 
Laramie and the oddly dressed little brown-eyed 
boy beside her attracted many a kindly glance. 

‘‘ Can’t you come home with me, Tom? ” 

*‘No’m; I must go back.” 

‘‘ Well, you must come to see me.” 

'‘Yes’m; thank you,” shyly. ^‘Good-bye,” and 
he went, and Laramie realized that she did n’t know 
where he was going, and that he could n’t possibly 
know where she lived, as it had n’t been mentioned. 

She was unmitigatedly indignant at herself. She 
couldn’t think how it ever happened, and was forced 
to content herself with the thought that he at least 
knew the church and would surely be there next 
Sunday. But the next Sunday Mrs. Bower decided 
to go to church herself for the first time in years, 
and asked Tom to take care of Bobby. Bobby was 
as willing to stay with Tom as with his mother, and 
Tom’s satisfaction over Mrs. Bower’s going back to 
a practice which he understood was customary with 
her when she, too, cared about the Lord Christ, made 
him very glad to keep Bobby, though he thought 
longingly of Laramie and her Sunday-school class. 


CHAPTER XIII 


AN ERRAND 

Dr. Rogers came into the store snapping and un- 
snapping his watch as usual. 

Hey — Tom — here!” As Tom came up from 
back of the counter, he went on. He ’s coming 
back to-morrow morning. He ’s well enough now. 
Have to be careful. Bower, I ’m talking about. Stars I 
what a change you have made in this hole!” gazing 
around the store. Would n’t know it could be the 
same place! Is that Bobby?” as Bobby stuck his 
head up from behind the counter. He looks pretty 
well. You all eat more of the right sort of food, I 
guess.” 

Oh, she’s the boss cook, I can tell you!” said 
Tom emphatically, so emphatically that Mrs. Bower, 
coming into the store from the back room at the 
sound of the doctor’s voice, resolved to make a pot- 
pic for dinner that would make Tom’s eyes stand* 
out. 

How do you do, Mrs. Bower? You look pretty 
well made over yourself. Mr. Bower will be here 
to-morrow; just telling Tom. How fine it looks 
here. That boy was a godsend to you, Mrs. 
Bower !” 

i8i 


i 82 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Indeed he was. Bless him !” was the prompt 
answer, to Tom’s confusion. 

“ You ’ll have to cheer Mr. Bower up, Mrs. Bower. 
He ’s the most downhearted man I ever saw. The 
store will brighten him, I guess. Tom,” jokingly, 
you better take some of these folderol trimmings 
and put them where he sleeps. We’re all mightily 
moved by what we see. Well, I’m in a hurry. 
How’s Reddy? Out in the sun? He needs regular 
work of some sort, Tom. He ’s a restless, unbalanced 
sort of a boy. He ’ll be in mischief, or drinking, or 
sick, or something ; shows all the signs. Good-bye.” 

Tom did n’t feel any lighter-hearted for his visit. 
He was worried enough about Reddy as it was. The 
molasses candy was doing a fair business. There 
was quite a steady sale for it in the store, and the 
gingerbread went daily to the last crumb. Reddy 
sold enough each day to make him feel fairly inde- 
pendent. Another week of it would see him in 
somewhat better clothes, and he was paying lodging 
and board to Mrs. Bower. But Tom was sure Mr. 
Bower would not want Reddy there unless the board- 
money turned out to be an object, and, though Reddy 
was doing pretty well, it was n’t a safe business by 
any means. Tom could n’t feel sure that Reddy had 
not seen, or would not see, some of Brown’s friends. 
There was every chance of it. As Reddy regained 
his normal strength, the molasses candy trade would 
certainly pall on him. Tom’s dream that he could 


AN' ERRAND 


183 


take Reddy back to his mother could not be fulfilled, 
he knew, until Reddy wore good clothes, and was 
doing something creditable. That was Reddy’s 
pride. Tom was sure that if Reddy felt that he 
could go back to his mother as a respectable mem- 
ber of society, he would go gladly, but that, as he 
was, nothing would persuade him to. 

I believe You put the idea in my head,” thought 
Tom as an idea occurred to him. If You will only 
stand by me I can do it. I will do it.” 

He knew but one person in the city who could, 
supposing him to be willing, help Reddy toward 
securing any steady work. That person was the 
proprietor of the Capital Wholesale Grocery Co., 
the man in whose room he had stood in the 
dead of night, sent in by a burglar, the man 
whose house Reddy had intended to burglarize. 
Would n’t he have to tell that if he went to see 
that man? Would it lead to Reddy’s arrest? That 
was the man whom he had promised to return to, 
the man from whom he had run, like a thief, the 
man he was afraid to see in his own store on legit- 
imate business. 

Tom flushed angrily at the thought. 

‘T ’ve got to go. I must see him. I ’ll do the 
best I can and You help me ! ” 

Should he go to the store or to the house? He 
had said he would go to the house and to the house he 
must go. The sooner the better. Perhaps the gen- 


184 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


tleman went home at noon. He would try it. If 
not he would go at night. 

A customer came in. Tom waited on the woman 
with the care which he always used and which was 
the cause of mothers’ telling their children, when 
they sent them to the store, to wait until Tom could 
supply them. 

Mrs. Bower,” he called, as he saw her pass the 
store door, can you get along without me this 
noon? ” 

Why, yes,” said Mrs. Bower. “But you ’ll eat 
dinner first, won’t you? It’s good.” 

Tom smelled it and meditated that their twelve 
o’clock dinner would probably antedate the great 
man’s nooning, and the enthusiasm of his expressed 
intention to remain to dinner cheered her heart. She 
did enjoy cooking and having Tom praise the result, 
and the children were beginning to imitate him and 
make much of her skill. 

“ If I can do what I want this noon and do n’t have 
to try again to-night, we can get your room all made 
mighty pretty, can’t we, for Mr. Bower, like the doc- 
tor said ? ” 

“What could we do? ” doubtfully. 

“Well, we could scrub it up good, and the win- 
dows — they keep things so slick at the hospital — and 
perhaps you could wash up the things on the bed.” 

“Yes; I planned to do that this afternoon.” 

“And perhaps we could put up some pictures, and 


AiY ERRAND 185 

maybe those curtains could be made to look better. 
I think we could do a lot after we got to work.” 

“ Perhaps we could,” she admitted a little more 
cheerfully. It ’s a shame not to try when you ’re so 
willing. We had such nice, pretty things when I 
was a girl, only I didn’t think they were much then. 
We had white curtains and frames to the pictures, and 
glass in the bureau, and fancy things stuck around ; 
when I think of it it do n’t seem worth while to try.” 

“ Now that ’s queer. I should suppose it would 
keep you wanting to try all the time. I never knew 
anybody lived so nice as you used to.” 

As soon as Tom had finished his dinner he started 
off, very much uplifted by the good potpie he had 
been regaling himself on. It did n’t seem quite so 
much of an ordeal to do his errand as it had seemed 
before dinner. However, he went more slowly as he 
reached the house. 

It was a pleasant house. The frees in the tree- 
boxes in front cast a generous shade. It was a home- 
like, inhabited, friendly-looking house. Tom slowly 
mounted the steps, turning over in his mind the 
words he meant to say to whomsoever opened the 
door. He had decided to say, Is the man that 
lives here at home now? ” 

He rang the bell. In a moment he heard some 
one opening the vestibule door and turning the knob 
of the door before him. His lips were open to make 
his inquiry, when a familiar, joyful voice exclaimed, 


i86 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Why, Tom, you dear, good boy ! How did you 
ever find out I lived here? How lovely of you!’' 
and there was Miss Laramie Roslyn. 

Tom’s pleasure at seeing her showed very plainly 
in his brown eyes and flushed cheeks, but he stam- 
mered out, I did n’t know you did live here. I came 
to see some one else.” 

Some one else here ! ” she exclaimed, astonished. 

Come right in. Whom do you want to see? ” 

“ I do n’t know his name. The man that owns the 
Capital Wholesale Grocery Co.” 

“ Mr. David Roslyn, of course. He ’s my uncle. 
We live here all together now. This is his house. 
Miss Roslyn, the lame one, is here, too. Come right 
in here,” showing him into a small place apparently 
not meant for more than two or three to sit in, though 
it had ferns in it, and a carved marble, and there was 
a general cool effect of white and pale green and gold. 
It was too dainty and elegant a place for him, Tom 
thought, but he gritted his teeth and resolved not to 
flinch. 

‘Ms he here — Mr. Roslyn?” asked Tom. 

What a boy you are to keep right at a thing I 
And here I am dying to talk to you ! Yes, he’s here, 
and he will be at lunch soon, so I suppose you will 
have to see him now, if at all. You wait, dear.” 

She went out and in a moment returned. You 
can come to the library. I suppose it is business, 
and I ’ll have to keep out.” 


AN' ERRAND 


187 


'^Yes, it’s business,” admitted Tom, feeling queer 
as he thought of the possibility of Mr. Roslyn’s in-* 
stantly recognizing him as a burglar while Miss 
Roslyn was still within hearing. 

There, Tom, do n’t be worried,” she said kindly. 

I ’m not going in, but you simply must come here to 
see me. Do you understand? Not anybody else 
but me, and that very soon, too. Promise? ” 

‘‘Yes; I will if — if — I am let come after Mr. Ros- 
lyn ’s seen me.” 

“You are coming to see me. Do you understand? 
Here is the door.” She opened it, pushed him in, 
closed it, and went up-stairs to her aunt, wondering 
much as she went. 

Mr. Roslyn sat by the library table. He vyas 
leaning back in his chair, one arm resting on the 
table, which he was rapping in a musical way with a 
paper-cutter. He was a dignified, handsome man, 
and Tom knew before he entered the door just how 
the steady dark eyes would look him through, and 
just how the firm lips would close as they questioned 
him. Tom admired him intensely, and he felt 
chagrined that he should be present to his imagina- 
tion as a horrid little runaway burglar. 

Tom stood inside the library door, hat in hand, 
looking as fixedly at Mr. Roslyn as Mr. Roslyn 
looked at him. 

“Well, my boy?” said Mr. Roslyn, inquiringly. 

“ I ’m Tom Hart,” answered Tom simply. 


iS8 


Mrs BEST FRIEND 


Oh, you are ! his heart giving a queer throb. 
The night of the attempted burglary he had dreamed 
of Winthrop, his little lost Winthrop, sole legacy left 
him by his dead wife ; the little fellow with the big, 
solemn eyes who had vanished from that home when 
he was only two years old, and whom he had sought 
so fruitlessly all the nine years since ; he had dreamed 
of him that night, and when he woke to see a light, 
showing, as a halo would, the slender, dark form of a 
boy close beside his bed, he had scarcely been able 
to suppress a wild cry, or to prevent himself from 
clasping the boy there and then to his heart. And when 
the boy had gone, a boy, he knew, he assured him- 
self, who, from his very appearance, could not possi- 
bly have anything in common with his boy, he could 
not help thinking of him. In a quiet way he had 
tried to find him, but without success. The fates 
seemed to be all against him when it came to finding 
boys. He had thought he heard his voice down at 
the store one day and he had been startled at the 
effect it had on him. And now here was the boy. 
The voice he knew perfectly, and as he looked at 
him more keenly he recognized him. 

^^Well, Tom Hart, sit down there, opposite me. 
You ran away from me.’' 

Yes, sir.” 

^‘Why, I should like to know ?” 

Because, sir, one of the men was my friend, and 
if the shot had hit one it might be him, and if he was 


AJ\r ERRAND 189 

shot he would have no friend but me. I had to 
go.” 

‘^Was he shot?” 

‘‘Yes, sir.” 

“ Good. I did n’t know that before. The man 
they caught was n’t hurt any.” 

“ Did they catch one ? ” eagerly. 

“They did that; didn’t you know it?” suspic- 
iously. 

“ No, sir. What did they do with him? ” 

“ He turned out to be a man they needed very 
badly and he is well disposed of by this time under 
lock and key, where such people belong.” 

Tom did not seem to dissent. 

“Do you think he deserved it?” 

“Why, yes, of course,” in surprise. 

“Why didn’t you hand over the other one where 
he belonged?” 

“ I didn’t think he belonged anywhere in particu- 
lar. He was my friend.” 

“ Why did you come to see me to-day ? ” 

“ I came about him, some. I did n’t know any- 
body else to go to.” 

“ You thought you knew me, did you ? ” The an- 
swer touched him strangely. 

“ I — I — did n’t know any one else.” 

“You are ready to have me have him arrested 
now, are you?” 

Tom leaned forward as though to say some- 


190 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


thing, then opened his hands with a gesture of 
despair. 

I do n’t know what I ’ll do if you do that! I’ll 
be the worst friend Reddy or Mother Lide ever had ! 
I just came, not knowing what you would do, but 
sure I’d got to do something. And I promised to 
come,” earnestly, and I could n’t bear to wait any 
longer, and I was ashamed to see you down in your 
store, and I could n’t stand that.” 

*‘What do you know about my store?” 

buy there for Robert Bower.” There was no 
overlooking the note of pride in Tom’s voice. 

A slight smile crossed Mr. Roslyn’s face. His 
head clerk had told him funny yarns about Bower’s 
agent. 

I had to see you, that ’s all there is to it.” 

No ; it is not all there is to it. What do you 
want of me in regard to this man you speak of? ” 

‘‘ Reddy is n’t exactly a man. At least, he seems 
a lot like a boy. He is selling molasses candy now, 
but he ought to have some work and — and ” — 

Tom felt as though he were floundering in deep 
water. Mr. Roslyn’s keen eyes fixed on him made 
him feel as though there was no reason in the world 
for his coming to him, as though it were a rank im- 
position to even think of Mr. Roslyn’s interesting 
himself in a criminal, but he was n’t the sort to give 
up and he forged ahead. 

‘'And I ’ve got to look out for him and I did n’t 


AAT ERRAND 


191 


know anybody who would listen to me at all about 
work for him unless you would. I thought you 
would know where he could go to get work, if he 
could get work.” 

‘‘You thought, as a matter of fact,” said Mr. Ros- 
lyn, rather sharply, “ that perhaps I would give him 
work in my wholesale house.” 

Tom had not only thought that, but he had 
dreamed a golden dream about it, the most imagina- 
tive piece of work that had ever emanated from his 
practical brain. But he had to face it out. 

“Yes, sir; I could n’t tell but that there might be 
something he could work at in your store.” 

“ My boy,” said Mr. Roslyn, gravely, “ you make 
a great mistake, and possibly for your age and ex- 
perience a very natural one. You will find, sir, that 
reputable stores do not take into their employ men 
known to be lawbreakers. Those who have sought 
opportunities for wronging the property rights of 
fellow-citizens cannot reasonably be trusted to resist 
such opportunity thrust in their way. And what 
could he do ? Do you know anything he can do ? ” 

“ He can make molasses candy.” 

“Quite an occupation for a grown man! I can 
tell you the probable truth of the matter. As a boy 
he made light of school opportunities, furnished by 
thriving, industrious, tax-paying citizens. What he 
could evade he evaded. Such chances as he had 
for industry and profiting by right example he pur- 


192 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


posely neglected. Of choice he joined himself with 
the element around him most given to lawlessness, to 
noisy disregard of others’ rights, to everything in the 
way of personal indulgence that ends in vice, to 
familiarizing the mind with reports of successful 
crime. As soon as he could he became one of a 
gang whose time was spent, not in self-improvement 
nor in strengthening the sinews for life’s struggle, 
nor in benefiting their community in any way, but 
in deliberately cultivating every tendency toward and 
every opportunity for criminal acts. The strength 
and opportunity of his early manhood went that way. 
Finally, with confederates under arrest, injured and 
weak, temporarily unable to proceed in his chosen 
path, with little opening before him but the tramp 
life or the penitentiary, he thinks virtue is better 
than vice; believes he would like a regular salary, 
and not knowing how to do anything, expects people 
who have treasured their resources and made men of 
themselves to employ him. No, sir ! An evil 
choice in youth is an evil thing, and it bears evil 
consequences. And a man with such a record is 
not one to be lightly turned in with more honest 
boys and men.” 

Tom was appalled. That Mr. Roslyn had cor- 
rectly described Reddy’s boyhood he felt sure. But 
the pity of it ! That Reddy was at all as he de- 
scribed now he indignantly denied. It seemed very 
hopeless to him. There was no use arguing about 


AN' ERRAND 


193 


it. Evidently Mr. Roslyn was a man to know his 
own mind. He understood the situation, and if he 
had seen a way to help Tom, or had wished to, he 
could say so. There was nothing farther for Tom 
to say on that matter. 

‘‘ Yes, sir,” he said dejectedly, as Mr. Roslyn 
waited for a remark. “ I wanted to tell you why I 
ran away. I guess I did tell you. You won’t mind 
my buying things at your store for Mr. Bower, will 
you? ” 

Something about the smallness of the boy, the 
pathetic scantiness of his clothing, the resistless 
acquiescence, the sadness of the previously lively 
brown eyes, made a slight dryness in Mr. Roslyn’s 
throat. 

I — I shall be very glad indeed of your custom.” 

‘‘And Miss Roslyn asked me to come here to the 
house to see her. I said I would if you would let 
me. Would you rather I did n’t?” He was stand- 
ing, his piece of a cap in his hand, waiting. 

It was too absurd ; Mr. Roslyn did not know how 
he ever kept from laughing. 

“ Oh, do just as she says. She is quite the 
mistress of this house, I assure you. Must you go, 
Tom? Won’t you stay and lunch with me? ” 

He hoped he would, he wished he would. He 
was sure he had n’t any knack with boys, and his 
heart fairly ached over the boy’s disappointment. 

“ I ’ve had my dinner.” 

13 


194 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


“ Perhaps it was n’t a good one,” hazarded Mr, 
Roslyn, wishing to prolong the conversation but 
scarcely knowing how. 

''It was, just!” and Torn’s face looked more 
natural, " Potpie, she said the name was, Ever 
have any? ” 

" I should think so ! Potpie, now, is good eat- 
ing.” 

" She ’s the cook, Mrs. Bower is.” 

Mr. Roslyn wished that Laramie was there. She 
would know what to say and how to say it. 

" Where ’s your mother? ” 

" Dead.” 

" Can you remember her? ” 

" Oh, yes, sort of.” 

" Do you remember your father? ” 

" No, but I remember my mother telling me 
about him. His name was Tom Hart, just like 
mine.” 

" Do you remember anything else ? ” 

" No. I must go now. Good-bye.” 

" I ’ll go to the door with you. 

He wanted an exeuse for detaining him, but he 
could n’t think of any. In the hall he called up the 
stairs : 

" Laramie ! Your friend is going.” 

But Laramie was in Miss Roslyn’s room, and did 
not hear him. Tom moved on toward the door, 
scarcely heeding as he went the wide entrance to 


/lAT ERRAND 


^95 


the drawing-room, the handsome appointments of 
the great hall with its fireplace and settles and 
antlers and all sorts of interesting things. He was 
bitterly disappointed, but he saw no help for it. He 
had been mistaken ; he could not blame Mr. Roslyn. 
He had made his course seem just enough ; but, 
after all, there was Reddy, and what was to be done 
for Reddy? 

Good-bye,^’ he said at the door, raising his eyes 
to Mr. Roslyn’s. 

Good-bye, Tom, my boy,” extending his hand. 

He wanted to keep him, to know him, to help 
him ; his heart had never warmed so toward any 
boy, though he was interested in many. But though 
he could manage men and affairs with unerring 
accuracy he was at a loss now. 

‘'You will come again? you will feel at home 
here, won’t you ? ” 

Tom frowned slightly, alert, suspicious at once. 
The man was making fun of him. He, Tom, at 
home there ! His keen glance took in details he 
had not noticed before, — the beautiful polish of the 
wood, the handsomely covered walls, the signs of 
elegance wherever he turned. Then he looked at 
himself. 

Mr. Roslyn saw he had some way made a mistake 
and sighed. 

Then Tom saw things as they were : himself, hurt, 
half resentful, distrustful, and another Boy beside 


196 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


him, ready to meet Mr. Roslyn more than half way, 
understanding him, feeling for him, willing to believe 
his kind words; a braver, truer, more manly boy. 

I M kick me if I could,” thought Tom, and 
frank and ready as a boy could be, he smiled 
honestly up at Mr. Roslyn, and held out his hand to 
the hand that was already half withdrawn. 

“ You Te very good. I feel bad about Reddy, 
but there ’s no reason for you to be so kind to me. 
I ’m coming to see Miss Roslyn. They Ve been 
awful good to me at your store.” 

And before Mr. Roslyn had half realized the 
strange pleasure of the boy’s firm hand-clasp Tom 
was going down the street, not running this time, 
but walking as fast as he could. 

It did seem as though the next best thing to get- 
ting back to Mother Tide and Kathie and John 
would be to get back to the store and Mrs. Bower 
and Daisy and Bobby. He thought affectionately 
of the potpie, and with some trepidation of Mr. 
Bower’s return, and in the most gloomy manner 
imaginable of Reddy. It was Reddy’s increasing 
restlessness that bothered him so. And something 
must be done. 

If he can’t be trusted to keep away from those 
fellows a month, Mr. Roslyn ’s about right,” he 
thought. 

He had to go through one of the finest business 
streets to return, and with a street-boy’s acute powers 


AAT ERRAATD 


97 


of observation he generally saw all there was to be 
seen. A hue display in a window always compelled 
his attention, because it had been his habit to notice 
anything very pretty and describe it to Kathic. 

A furniture store had an exhibit of a child’s bed- 
room. It was as fresh and pretty a spot in blue 
and white as one could wish. Tom imagined him- 
self telling all about it to Kathic, and could see how 
her blue eyes would shine and how her thin little 
hands would clasp in delight and how the reddish 
curls would join in expressing her excitement. 

If we could only have some blue and white stufi 
we could make our place look pretty, too,” thought 
Tom. Mrs. Bower don’t take much stock in it, 
but we can make things look better for him, I think.” 

When he got back, he found Daisy was keeping 
store and Mrs. Bower had her arms deep in her 
wash-tub. 

“These things will be dry and ironed to-night, 
and perhaps we can clean up and I can put their 
clean things on the children, and I ’ll make some- 
thing nice that Robert likes for dinner, and perhaps 
he ’ll seem more cheerful.” 

It was plain she dreaded the weary gloom she 
believed would come with her husband. That 
would n’t do at all. 

“ First-rate ! Soon as you get ’em out we ’ll go 
to work, and Daisy can let us know if any one comes 
in. Daisy ’s a mighty smart little girl.” 


io3 H/5 BEST FRIEND t; 

i 

Daisy, shy, pathetic little figure, smoothed out 
her frock and looked overweeningly important. jj 

'‘And here's Bobby getting out the clothes-pins !| 
for his mother. Oh, good Bobby ! Helps his moth- 
er ! ” and Tom stooped and patted the pale little 
face. He was thinking how gentle John always ! 
seemed to be with children and how ready they were i 
to mind him. ! 

" Reddy been in ? " 

“No." 

It boded no good, but Tom tried to shake it off. 

“ I '11 beg him to-night, or to-morrow. I just will 
if he ’ll listen." 

Beg him to do what? Tom scarcely knew. To j 
go home to Mother Tide? Reddy wouldn’t; but ll 
even if he did what good would it do? Without an 
occupation there was but one level for him in the i 
tenement. Beg him to keep away from Brown’s I 
friends in the city? Beg him to have some back- 
bone and perseverance? Without something to 
do Tom did not feel as though he could trust him 
very far. | 

When the clothes were out, they went to work on 
the bedroom. Tom cleaned the windows in mas- | 
terly style, brushed down the walls and swept the 
floor, pounded the mattress and shook the pillows, 
while Mrs. Bower scrubbed the floor, washed the 
woodwork, and rubbed up the bed. Tom mended 
the one chair and polished the chest of drawers. 


Aisr ERRAND 


199 

“ These two beds and the chest and what little ’s 
down-stairs is all we saved/* said Mrs. Bower, bitterly. 

'‘Why, it*s a lot, I think!” said Tom, in surprise. 
“ It’s lucky we got so many of those pictures. I ’ll 
fasten them up. It looks clean in here, I tell you. 
There ’s some of that smelling sassafras left yet I ’ll 
bring in here. Smells just splendid, I think. Won’t 
those curtains look good when they’re ironed?” 
he added, anxiously. 

" No, they won’t — never did and never will. Bits 
of old cloth do n’t make curtains. But I ’ll tell you 
what I will do. I’ve got some clean old stuff laid 
away that I ’ll use. It was a dress of mine that wore 
out and it ’s too thin and worn to use for the chil- 
dren, and it won’t wear for curtains, but it will look 
pretty for a week or so.” 

And before long they were both astonished at the 
pleasing effect of the thin, white sash curtains at the 
two windows. 

" Got any blue stuff? ” 

" Indeed, I have I I ’ve got more blue stuff than 
anything else — blue paper cambric.” 

" How funny I ” 

" No, it is n’t funny. It was one of the things 
Robert tried and failed up in, and though we got rid 
of nearly everything else, there ’s a piece of blue 
paper cambric nobody wanted.” 

So they made some blue bows for the curtains and 
Tom was very nearly satisfied. 


200 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


“I helped Joe Mulhaley paint a room floor just 
before he got married and we painted it blue. Oh, 
it was the finest floor you ever saw ! I wish we 
could paint this.” 

“Paint costs money,” laughed Mrs. Bower. “I 
think gray in the middle and a blue border would be 
pretty.” 

“Yes; that would be prettier yet.” 

They decided that when the bed was made up 
with its clean things the room would look very well 
indeed, and Tom proposed that they go to work 
in the down-stairs room. 

That was more of a job, but Tom saw to thorough 
work. He had up the strip of carpet that covered 
the middle of the floor, beat out the lounge and pil- 
low, blacked the whole of the stove, cleaned the 
walls and windows, rubbed up the chest of draw- 
ers, cupboard, table, and chairs; and Mrs. Bower 
scrubbed the floors and woodwork. It seemed like 
a very clean, neat room when the strip of green car- 
pet went down again. Mrs. Bower put a clean case 
on the pillow and improvised a curtain for the window, 
with bows ; cleaned up her cupboard and drawers, 
and the more she worked, the fresher and happier 
she seemed to feel. 

“ It ’s like a real old time house-cleaning, and I 
did love to clean at home with Aunt Mollie. I be- 
lieve Robert will be real pleased with this. You just 
love pictures, don’t you, Tom? I never did see 


AJV ERjRAND 


20 


such pretty ones as they sent last time. That’s just 
beautiful ! Supper-time, sure ; and if there ’s a piece 
of that gingerbread left we ’ll cat it.” 

But it was all gone. Daisy had made six sales 
all herself, and was the proudest little tot imaginable. 
Tom praised her enough to well-nigh turn her head. 

“You do believe in chirkin’ up children, don’t 
you, Tom?” said Mrs. Bower, half wistfully. “It’s 
a good way. They ’ve never been so happy as 
since you ’ve been here.” 

“ It ’s my Friend makes ’em happy, I guess,” 
laughed Tom. 

Mrs. Bower gave him a queer look and turned to 
get supper. 

“ He ’s like Him. He ’s like the blessed Lord him- 
self, or I ’m no judge. Bless him ! ” 

Reddy came home, cheerful and moody by turns. 
He had sold out as usual, but he was not disposed to 
give any account of his adventures during the day. 
He held Bobby and Daisy on his lap, gave them each 
some peanuts and a cent, sang songs for them, and 
told a funny story. They both doted on Reddy, and 
the mother often stopped her work of clearing up to 
look at the little group in the failing light on the back 
step ; but there was a thinness about Reddy’s face, a 
stoop of his shoulders, a fitfulness in his manner, that 
made her shake her head. She liked Reddy. She 
was sure her husband would not, or at least would 
not like his being there. 


202 


HIS BEST' FRIEND 


The children and their mother went to bed, the 
store was shut up, and Tom and Reddy sat on the \ 
back steps talking in a low tone. 

‘‘ Reddy, I want to see Mother Tide and Kathie and ; 
John so bad I do n’t know what to do.” 

‘‘You could get back easy enough if you wanted / 
to,” said Reddy, with apparent carelessness ; “ steal i 

rides or walk.” '£ 

“Would you go?” f 

“ Not there.” J 

“ Reddy, do you see any of those lodging-house 
bums now? ” 

“ Oh, quit talking ! ” 

“ Reddy, do you? ” 

“Well, what if I do?” 

“ What if you do ? A lot if you do, and you know 
it ! They ’ll persuade you to go into some fool thing 
and you ’ll be the sponge. Brown ’s sent up.” 

“ Well, I guess I know that.” 

“You are loose now; why don’t you stay loose? 
Why do n’t you get something to do, and be decent 
and be ready to take care of your mother? She’s 
getting old, I tell you ! She ’s all worn out ! ” ' 

“Hear you talk!” said Reddy fiercely. “Get 
something to do ! What can I get to do ? I ’ve been 
and been and been. Most of them won’t so much 
as let me open my head. If they ’ll talk at all they 
say ‘ reference.’ If I say ‘ I ’m a stranger here,’ they 
say, ‘ Where did you come from and why did you 


AI^ ERRAND 


203 

leave They say, ‘What can you do?’ If I say 
‘ anything,’ they show up quick enough that that is 
nothing at all. For lifting and hauling and that, 
I ’m not strong enough ; it shows plain enough, 
do n’t it? If there is a place for me, I ’ll never come 
near it. A fellow that ’s begun the way I have just 
better stick it out and take the consequences. There ’s 
nothing else. It ’s fair enough, ain ’t it? ” 

“There’s nothing fair to Mother Tide about it,” 
said Tom in a trembling voice. “I’d have more 
backbone ! I ’d sell molasses candy till I was gray, 
and stay with her and comfort her, sooner than I 
would let her wear her heart all out waiting while I 
went to the dogs with Brown and his set ! ” 

“ She ’s forgotten all about me.” 

Tom sprang up, gave Reddy a slap in the face, 
and squared off angrily. “ Do n’t you lie like that 
again ! ” 

Reddy started to seize Tom by his shirt and 
shake him, but he sank back on the step again and 
began to laugh. 

“You ’re a regular little game-cock. If I were to 
shake you by that rotten little shirt of yours you ’d 
be a pretty sight for old Bower to see. Could n’t 
keep store. Sit down here by me.” 

Tom sat down, half ashamed now that Reddy 
did n’t fight him. 

“ Here, kid,” and Reddy put his arm around Tom 
and drew him up close. “You mustn’t get so mad. 


204 HIS BEST FRIEND 

It’s unhealthy. I have held off from those fellows, 
Tom, but I ’m all on their side. I see sure I’ll give 
in sooner or later — might as well be sooner. I can’t 
stay here; that’s plain enough. I can’t sell mo- 
lasses candy and stuff unless I am here — at least now. 
When I get all my strength back I won’t want to do 
it, anyway : I can see that. I do n’t believe I ’ll get 
anything to do. If I go back to mother it will only 
be to cut her all up again. She ’s had it once and 
lived it down. What ’s the use of stirring her all up 
and putting her through the same mill again?” 

There is n’t any use,” and Tom fairly clung to 
Reddy in his earnestness. Be a man about it. If 
there ’s a right thing to do just do it, no matter what 
happens.” 

It sounds easy,” and Reddy gave a short laugh. 

It is easy, if you ’d let the Friend that stands 
willing help you ! He knows. He lived just your 
age, he knew all kinds of people. He knows us the 
way we really are. He is great. He is powerful. 
He is wonderful. He is strong; and just as much as 
you ’re willing he’ll help you be those things. Listen. 

“ One there is above all others 
— that ’s Him — 

“Well deserves the name of friend. 

His is love beyond a brother’s, 

Costly, and knows no end.” 


“ I ain’t acquainted with him.” 


AIV ERRAND 


205 


Oh, Reddy, you do n’t have to be ! He ’s ac- 
quainted with you. Just think of him and you ’ll feel 
different. You ’ll feel like wanting and doing just 
what you did n’t want so very bad before. What 
looked hard will look easy.” 

‘‘Well, Tom, I ’m willing to try a bit longer, but 
you need n’t be setting your heart on anything. 
You ’re an awful good boy, Tom.” 

Reddy gave him a hug with both arms and with a 
smile that wrote “Kathie” all over his face he gave 
him a kiss on the forehead, then one on the mouth, 
another hug, and pushed him off, saying, “ Go on 
up to bed, you ’ve made fool enough of me for one 
night.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


ROBERT BOWER ’S RETURN 

“ I believe the Reddy Tom told about must be that 
fellow selling molasses candy by the post-office.” 

Mr. Roslyn hesitated a moment, for time was 
precious, then retraced his steps to the post-office. 
He stood on the steps which gave him the best look 
at the molasses-candy vender, ostensibly examining 
some mail, but watching the young man. He saw 
him make two sales. 

*^Very well done,” he thought; ‘‘natural knack, 
inspires confidence and liking; obliging, quick, 
courteous.” He watched Reddy standing idle. 
“ Keen face, quick-seeing eyes, intelligent. Now 
really he does n’t look like a bad fellow.” 

While he looked, two young men, as plainly 
stamped as a silver dollar, lounged up to Reddy. 
After a moment of stiffness on his part, he evidently 
began to listen to them with awakening interest. 
Their flashiness and swagger annoyed Mr. Roslyn ; 
that was the sort of thing he hated. A moment ’s 
watching the progress of the conversation and he had 
had enough. 

“ That settles it. No matter what one did, he 
could not be weaned from what he best likes. Asso- 

206 


ROBERT B DIVERTS RETURN 207 

dates of that description would undo in five rninutea 
what honesty could do for him in five years,” And 
he walked away indignant but relieved. 

Dr. Rogers came out on the post-office steps. He 
opened his watch and looked up the street. He 
snapped the case and looked down the street. He 
saw Reddy and his two friends and snorted. They 
were in the act of leaving. The expression of inter- 
est died out of Reddy ’s face. 

Dr. Rogers stalked over to Reddy. 

Are n’t you ashamed, Reddy ! If you let those 
fellows come it over you you ’ll get to drinking, and 
you ’ll be flat on your back sick as a dog for fall ; and 
no such luck for a nurse again, likely ! They want 
to get you into some police scrape, and you know it. 
Why do n’t you get something steady to do where 
they can’t hang around you ? Why do n’t you send 
them away? ” 

They are n’t so easy discouraged as honest peo- 
ple,” laughed Reddy. ’m a poor stick, I guess, 
doctor.” 

You ’re not as poor now as you will be after 
you ’ve let those fellows have their way with you. 
Come, man, brace up ! ” 

That afternoon Reddy went home tired and dis- 
couraged. Tom was in the shop, the back room 
door was open, and there was a sound of talking. 

Old man got back, Tom? ” 

‘‘ Yes, this morning.” 


2o8 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Get around any? ” 

Not to amount to anything/' 

Say, Tom, I can’t stand it. The fellows are 
after me and if I stay I 'll fall in with 'em, and 
mighty quick, too. I can try a little longer, but not 
here. You see I want to go in with ’em, that’s the 
trouble. It ain’t as though I did n’t want to. I ’m 
going. I ’m going to tramp it.” 

Mr. Roslyn’s words came back to Tom — Tramp- 
ing or the penitentiary.” 

See here, Reddy, try just one thing for me first, 
won’t you? Just one. Please, Reddy i ” 

What is it? ” 

Do you know that place where we stopped to 
eat, coming here, and Brown stole what you had, and 
a boy gave me some cherry pie ? ” 

^^Yes.” 

^WVell, now, won’t you buy you a ticket to there? 
Just buy it, and ride on the cars like anybody, and 
go to a house next back of that nearest one. Jed 
Cooper lives in that nearest one, and his aunt lives 
in the other one, and she 's a good woman, and you 
ask for work there. I .just know you ’ll get it. 
Won’t you try that first; won’t you? ” 

‘‘And I just know I won’t get it. But 1 ’ll try it if 
you like. I’ll do that much for you. I’d like to 
ride on the cars, too. And I 've got money enough. 
Train goes at 6.30. What you going to do? ” 

“Why, I’ll stay until Mr. Bower can keep store 


ROBERT BOWERS S RETURN 


2og 


and then I ’m going back. And, Reddy, you ’ll 
come there to the tenement to see me, won’t you, 
even if you don’t see Mother Lide? What? Yes?” 

“Yes; that ’s easy enough.” 

“ Come on, then ; we ’ll go in here and see the 
folks. Oh, Daisy ! ” he called. “ Come mind the 
shop. We ’re coming in to see Mr. Bower.” 

Daisy came primly in, and Tom escorted Reddy 
to the back room. 

“ This is Reddy, Robert,” said Mrs. Bower. “ He 
has been selling my gingerbread and his candy since 
he ’s been around.” 

Reddy shook hands and asked Mr. Bower how he 
was feeling, but it all seemed very awkward and stiff. 

“I came back early, Mrs. Bower,” said Reddy, 
clearly and very politely, “ so as to say good-bye to 
you all. I leave on the 6.30 to-night. I expected 
to take Tom with me when I went, but he seems to 
think he ’d better stay a bit longer, until Mr. Bower 
can get around easier.” 

Mrs. Bower’s face lengthened perceptibly at the 
mention of Tom’s going. 

“ Oh, Tom ! ” she said, “ you were n’t thinking of 
going? ” 

“ Why, I ’ll wait until Mr. Bower can take hold. 
You couldn’t keep me, you know,” laughing, “after 
I was n’t any more use.” 

“ Oh, Tom ! Robert, you can’t think how Tom 
has helped ! ” she explained. 

14 


210 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


'' Well, I ’ll be going,” said Reddy, rising. 

“Now, Reddy, you sit right still. We had dinner 
early for Mr. Bower, and we ’ll have a snack of sup- 
per before you go. We ’ll all sit around once more 
together. Come, Reddy, no saying No. I ’ll have 
my way about this. You’ve been kindness itself to 
the children and it’s no more than fair to them.” 

It soothed Reddy ; he had a hurt, sore feeling at 
his heart. Bobby climbed up in Reddy’s lap, and 
Reddy sang and talked to him in a low voice, while 
Mr. Bower looked on with jealous eyes. 

“ The store looked better, did n’t it, Mr. Bower? ” 
said Reddy. Now that he was going he felt less 
obtrusive, and Mr. Bower had not said a word. 

“Yes, it did so,” arousing himself. “Everything 
looked good to me.” 

“ Your wife is such a good cook; you will soon 
gain strength at home.” 

“ She used to be a good cook,” hesitated Mr. 
Bower. 

“ Is now,” put in Tom, promptly. “ Beats any- 
body ever I saw ! ” 

“ That ’s the way Robert used to talk when we 
were first married, Tom,” said Mrs. Bower, good- 
naturedly. “ But he has forgotten how, now.” 

“ It ’s likely I never was much hand, Mollie,” and 
Mr. Bower smiled a little. 

Bobby slipped down from Reddy’s lap, stood by 
his father, just touching his father’s thin hand with 


ROBERT BOWEES RETURN 


21 I 


his own little pale fingers, and said timidly, Kind 
papa.” 

Reddy never forgot the agonized expression in 
the man’s eyes, the love and the longing and the 
pain. 

‘^You have two very fine children, Mr. Bower,” 
said Reddy, desperately determined to sustain the 
conversation. Bobby is as smart as he can be, and 
Daisy is a regular little woman.” 

There was a pleased look on Mr. Bower’s face that 
told Reddy that kind of talk would take, and he con- 
tinued, not sticking at much of anything. He thought 
of every little saying of Bobby’s since he had been 
there, and they had been few enough, and told them 
all, for Reddy was a fluent talker and a good story- 
teller. It was part of his charm with all who knew 
him. Daisy’s little ways were related in a fashion 
that made Mrs. Bower stare at him in amazement. 
How could Reddy know so much? As for Mr. 
Bower, he was hungry and thirsty for it. He scarcely 
noticed the time until supper was ready, and he had 
thought he could not stand it with the stranger in the 
room. 

It was with real sincerity, for he could speak in no 
other way, that Mr. Bower told Reddy he was sorry 
he was going. 

If you are here again, look us up ; I would like 
to see more of you.” 

Then Reddy said good-bye to the children and 


212 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Mrs. Bower, and held Tom’s hand a minute out by 
the store door, and Tom said, ‘‘ You ’ll do just as 
you promised, won’t you, Reddy?” 

Yes, first. Good-bye,” and the tall, slender fig- 
ure was soon out of Tom’s sight. 

Tom could see that Mr. Bower was uneasy with 
strangers, and he meant to obliterate himself as com- 
pletely as possible when he had finished what he 
always did for Mrs. Bower. He wiped the dishes 
and straightened up the room, put on Bobby’s 
nightgown for him, and played a tune for Daisy on 
his mouth organ, the one thing he had that was his 
own. A late customer came and Tom waited on 
her. The door was open and Mr. Bower could hear 
the polite inquiry after himself, and then the woman 
said pleasantly : 

'‘And I hope you ’ll be staying on here yourself, 
Tom; we all say it’s a pleasure to come in and buy 
of you.” 

' “ I like it,” said Tom. “ I never did see such nice 
people as live around here.” 

Mr. Bower had never seen a nice person while he 
was keeping store, and he wondered. 

Tom was planning to go up-stairs then, but he 
asked Mr. Bower if he would like to see the account- 
book, and Mr. Bower said he would. 

“ I guess my bookkeeping is n’t very fancy,” said 
Tom, “ but I think I can explain it all right.” 

He sat down by Mr. Bower, and though it was a 


ROBERT BOWER'' S RETURN' 213 

curious sample of accounts, it was all very plain and 
added up accurately. 

“ You ought to do it this way,” said Mr. Bower, 
and he showed him single and double entry and all 
manner of neat little professional quirks. 

My, what a lot you know ! ” admiringly. 

I used to be called a first-class bookkeeper,” 
replied Mr. Bower, with a touch of pride. 

“ Well, I should think so. Let me see now if I 
can do that.” 

He made several mistakes; Mr. Bower patiently 
corrected him and each time with increasing interest. 

The next trial Tom did well, and Mr. Bower 
looked as pleased as possible and encouraged him. 

Bobby ’s a lucky chap, I say !” exclaimed Tom. 

Why? ” demanded Mr. Bower. 

^WVhy? Why, because he can learn such a lot 
from you ! I Ve been to school pretty steady, but I 
never saw a teacher could show so much about 
figures as you can in ten minutes.” 

Mrs. Bower, rocking Bobby by the door, looked at 
her husband in surprise. His face was pleased and 
interested. 

‘'Bless that boy!” she thought. “He’s got the 
same way with Robert that he has with the children, 
and with me, too.” 

Tom told in a matter-of-fact way of the sales 
made, and of the things that sold best, and he found 
to his great surprise that Mr. Bower really knew 


214 


HIS BEST FRIEATD 


about things, their prices and qualities. He had not 
thought he could. 

Tom was interested ; he liked to talk shop. He 
became enthusiastic and Mr. Bower entered into the 
subject in the same spirit, until Mrs. Bower stopped 
them reluctantly. 

Robert ought to go to bed, Tom. He has n’t 
seen that clean bedroom yet, either.” 

‘‘All right,” said Tom, and he took the sleeping 
Bobby carefully from her, carried him up-stairs, and 
laid him on the low mattress bed on the floor beside 
Daisy. 

Mr. Bower looked rather bewildered at the act. 

“Ain’t you afraid he’ll drop him?” he asked 
involuntarily. 

“ No. I would n’t be afraid you ’d drop him, 
either.” 

She did a few things around the room, and Mr. 
Bower stared at the account-book. 

“ That ’s an uncommon sharp boy, that Tom,” he 
said at last; “keen as a razor; seems a nice, quiet 
boy, too — or not noisy, anyway.” 

“ Yes.” Mr. Bower might as well find out Tom 
for himself. 

“ I seem to have had such a nice home-getting, 
Mollie. It ’s good to see you.” 

“ Oh, Robert, do you think so?” Her face worked 
painfully, but she turned away so that he would not 
see it. 


ROBERT B DIVERTS RETURN 215 

“And the children are so good. You must be a 
good hand to bring up children, Mollie.” 

“ They ’re nice children. They ’re both just like 
you, Robert.” 

“And the store in such good shape — and in here. 
And I thought you ’d just have to starve and be 
turned out. You ’re a grand hand to manage, 
Mollie.” 

“ I wish I was, Robert; but it ’s Tom, really. He 
just took care of the children, and managed the 
store, until I got a little strength and courage.” 

“ I would n’t think such a young boy would want 
to or would be willing to try !” 

“Well, Robert, he says — he thinks — he talks — well, 
Robert, he seems to think Somebody helps him. 
Perhaps you can understand him. He says he ’ll 
stay until you can get around.” 

Mr. Bower asked no questions, but he wondered 
about it. In his weak state sleep came very fitfully, 
and he had had many long hours of weary, weary 
thinking, regret, unavailing going over past failures, 
hounding and worrying himself with blame and 
gloomy prognostications for the future ; but to-night, 
after a peaceful evening, his dozing thoughts found 
something new to occupy him. There seemed to be 
so much hope and life and energy about Tom. He 
wondered dully what or who helped him. All his 
life he had needed somebody to help him, but help 
never came his way. He did not have the faculty 


2I6 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


for availing himself of it. Well, perhaps he would 
find out. 

That Tom interested him was something, and the 
next day he found that a great deal of his time was 
spent in watching Tom — what he did for the chil- 
dren, how he helped about the gingerbread and 
molasses candy, for they had decided not to let that 
drop, as it sold so well ; his way with the customers, 
his doing this and that and the other thing in the store. 

They helped Mr. Bower out into the store, and he 
looked over the stock with Tom. He liked it. 
Things looked as they should, and all the attempts 
at making things attractive pleased him, though he 
had not the least invention in that way himself. 
After they had seen everything, Mr. Bower still sat 
there while Tom rubbed the bottles and the counter 
and everything that could be rubbed ; as he worked 
he whistled, and he could whistle like a professional 
^ — Ryan had often had him in as a whistler — or he 
sang, and his voice was as true and sweet as a boy’s 
voice could be ; many a time it had made Mother 
Tide think of Reddy, and to Kathie it was an 
unending source of happiness. He sang snatches of 
street songs, bits of this or that, and then, half feel- 
ing for the notes, and in so low a tone that Mr. 
Bower had to listen more intently, he began : 

“ One there is above all others, 

Well deserves the name of Friend ; 

His is love beyond a brother’s, 

Costly, free, and knows no end.” 


ROBERT BOWERS S RETURN' 


217 


There seemed to be a feeling in Tom’s voice that 
had not been there before, and something in the 
man vibrated in sympathy. He waited for Tom to 
go on when he stopped, but was afraid to say any- 
thing for fear of breaking the spell. Then Tom 
began again, a little surer, dwelling on some words, 
repeating some, varying it to suit his mood : 

“ His is love beyond a brother’s” — 

Who is it, Tom?” asked Mr. Bower. 

Tom started. He had half forgotten Mr. Bower 
and the store. 

Oh, it ’s a song I heard in church. It was good 
singing, too, I can tell you ! Just good voices ! ” 

He sang it again. Sounds nice, do n’t it? 
They sang another one that I know the tune of, but 
I can’t get the words. 

“ Come ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish ; 

La-la-la-la-la. 

Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish ; 

Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cannot heal. 

‘‘There, that’s the most I’ve remembered of it yet. 
There ’s a lot more, but I just can’t get it. I ’ve tried 
and tried.” 

He sang on, the melody suited them both, and 
occasionally he put in some words. 

“ Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying, 

Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cajmot cure.” 


2I8 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


That sounds good,” said Mr. Bower, slowly, if 
there was anything to it.” 

Oh, there is,” said Tom in astonishment ‘^Just 
sort of let go of yourself, and sense it once, and it ’s 
the realest thing ever was. Why, think of it,” and 
his voice rang out clear and strong, as though it must* 
carry conviction with it, 

“ One there is above all others,” 
to the end of the verse, 

“ His is love beyond a brother’s. 

Why, he ’ll come and live with you ! There is n’t 
any of this shut-up-ness there is between you and 
other people ; just your very seeing and hearing 
other people keeps you from getting right near the 
real them — and I guess it’s lucky it is that way; but 
you want something else, and One there is ! He 
knows. He understands. He is ready with the right 
help at the right minute, if you ’ll only take it. For 
you, you know. He ’s there with a man’s heart, and a 
man’s help. 

Makes me tired to hear myself talk. You ought 
to hear a man I heard once. He could use words 
that swelled you all up inside, and you just saw it all 
as plain as plain, and you wanted to just give your- 
self right over to being a whole, life-sized, big sort of 
a person, able to see things the way they are, the way 
Christ did ; able to tell what makes real life, and 
what do n’t, because you know things as He knew 


ROBERT BO PEER'' S RETURAT 219 

them ; able to feel free because He has freed you ; 
that’s what the man said. Well, it’s mighty different, 
anyway. Why, Mr. Bower, it would be the making 
of you,” leaning his elbows on the counter and look- 
ing straight at him. You could live. You could ! 
Oh, He ’d help you ! He ’d stand by you. He ’d 
care for you. He ’d bring out the man in you. 
You’d get along. You’d feel different. Don’t I 
wish I could talk ! ” 

But how about you ? ” 

Well, do n’t you think it means anything to me? 
Wasn’t I heading straight for — Ryan’s — and Reddy’s 
sort of a way, and chose it, and liked it, and as soon 
as I just knew He was my friend, the best friend ever 
anybody had, did n’t I know straight off that was n’t 
the way? — that there was a sight more to things, 
that there was a right way about things, and I 
wanted to have some honesty and decency about me ? 
I ’m no talker. I wish you could hear the man I 
heard ! ” 

I used to hear about religion years ago,” said 
Mr. Bower thoughtfully. ‘‘But what I heard sort of 
turned me against it. I used to hear” — 

But a look at Tom’s face stopped him. He was n’t 
a man to intentionally hurt or perplex any one. 

“ It makes no difference what you heard,” was the 
quick reply. “ Might have been every word true and 
yet not what you could take hold of. But if you ’d 
begin by hearing, by knowing, by believing Jesus 


220 


HIS BEST FRIEN-D 


Christ is your friend, that he wants to help you, and 
can, that he is the mightiest somebody ever was 
and will bring it all to you, why, then, you see you ^d 
have something to go by that would explain things, 
and fit them to you, and help you get all the use out 
of them meant for you. I ’m going to learn, I can 
tell you ! When I think how I Ve always lived right 
in the thick of churches, and people that know all 
about such things, and yet never tried to hear about 
him, I just wonder he ever wanted to have any- 
thing to do with me — me such a fool about every- 
thing ! ” 

Mrs. Bower had heard it all from the back room. 
It was hard for her to understand. She had been so 
firmly convinced when she was first married that 
“ religion ” was distasteful to her husband, and had been 
so averse to saying anything about the subject or 
urging any recognition of the more ordinary Christian 
forms, that little by little her own slight hold on such 
things had become practically nothing. She had a 
vague remembrance of her Sunday-school teacher 
once urging the class to let their light shine.” It 
was one of the few times when she had come near 
realizing that there was a real live heart to the matter. 

‘^Tom lets his shine,” she thought. I put mine, 
if I ever had any, under a bushel. Well, it is n’t too 
late, perhaps. I can do what I know and remember, 
and it may be there will something more like Tom 
understands come to me, too. Poor Robert ! I believe 


ROBERT BOWER^S RETURN 


221 


Tom is right. I believe it would be everything to 
Robert if he saw it as Tom does.” 

^‘Tom,” said Mr. Bower, I wish I knew the rest 
of that hymn you were singing.” 

So do I. See here ! I can find out as easy as 
not. I ’ll go ask Miss Roslyn.” 


CHAPTER XV 


A PORTRAIT 

It was late in the afternoon two or three days 
afterwards when Tom rang the Roslyns’ bell. The 
maid who opened the door greeted him cordially. 
She and every one else in the house had been 
instructed by Laramie to treat any boy answering to 
Tom’s description with good-will, and if she were 
out to send him up to Miss Roslyn. But Laramie 
was not out, and she flew down the stairs to meet 
him, asking him all in a breath why he had n’t been 
there before, why he had waited so long, and a dozen 
other questions. 

‘T want to know,” said Tom, as soon as he could, 
** what that hymn was they sang in church that day. 
The choir sang it. ‘ Come ye disconsolate.’ I was 
sure you could tell me all the words and there ’s a 
man I know wants to hear the rest of it. I can’t sing 
all the words.” 

Yes, dear ; what a rush you are in, as usual. You 
are coming up to see Miss Roslyn and we will have 
a real good talk. She wants to hear about that little 
lame girl. I ’ll write down the words for you.” 

To talk about Kathie ! Tom was eager enough, and 
he wished they could go faster up the stairs. Miss 


222 


A PORTRAIT 


223 


Roslyn’s room was not much like the one he had seen 
her in last, with all its signs of packing up. This 
room was so neat and beautiful and cosy and home- 
like that Tom brightened at the very sight of it, and 
he was so glad to shake hands with Miss Roslyn and 
look into the kind, cheerful face again. And she 
wanted to hear about Kathie. He took a hasty look 
at the table beside Miss Roslyn to see if that book 
were there yet, and there it lay. Tom had a burning 
desire to see inside it. Why, the very words Jesus 
Christ himself said were in there ! She had said so. 
Tom felt as though he would know just how Jesus said 
them, and that they would thrill him even as though 
he had been there and heard them. 

‘‘ I told Tom you wanted to hear about the little 
lame girl,” said Laramie. 

‘‘ Dear child ! How is she? ” 

Oh, that little book about Emily did her a sight 
of good. I read it to her, and she wanted to pattern 
after Emily right off, only really Kathie is lots sweeter 
and nicer herself. You’d think so, if you could sec 
her, and she diked so much all that in the book about 
the heavenly Father, and his caring for her. She 
took right hold. We did n’t work in box factories, 
nor fancy stores, nor such, John and I did n’t, but 
John, he ’s a thinker — a fellow to sit around and think 
— and he thought of some things for Kathie, knitting 
and plants. . We got the pots and dirt and seeds and 
slips and all. John really did it, and they were doing 


224 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


firstrate when I left, but I do n’t know what ’s hap- 
pened since,” a shadow crossing his face. 

“ I ’ve found the hymn, Tom,” said Laramie, who 
had been looking at a hymnal. ‘‘Aunt Mary, Tom 
wanted the words of ‘ Come ye disconsolate.’ ” 

Miss Roslyn smiled and in the quiet, beautiful 
voice that every one loved who knew her, she repeated 
the words. 

Tom listened intently. 

“ That ’s it,” he said, and whipping his mouth- 
organ out of his pocket he began in the softest fashion 
to breath out the tune as he had heard it in church, 
with all the variations and repetitions. 

“ Why, Tom, how lovely ! ” exclaimed Miss Ros- 
lyn. “ What a real treat ! ” 

“ How can you do it? ” asked Laramie. 

“ It ’s the words ; I want to get the words. Can 
you say it again? ” and at once Miss Roslyn repeated 
it. And Tom began, as she finished, to sing it, in 
order to see if he had the words, just in a low voice, 
but so sweet, so true, with something so touching in 
the tone, that both Laramie and her aunt listened 
with something very like tears in their eyes. 

“ Do sing me another, Tom,” pleaded Miss Roslyn. 

“ Why, I do n’t know any more except that other 
one they sang,” turning to Laramie ; and he sang 
“ One there is above all others.” He loved that, and 
the reverence, the adoration in his voice was al- 
together too much for Miss Roslyn. 


A PORTRAIT 


225 

Laramie, does it sound to you as it does to me? ” 

‘‘Mary, it sounds so to me, I think.” 

They all looked around to see Laramie’s father 
standing in the open doorway. 

“Father, do you remember Tom? He helped 
you pack — mighty poor help it was, too, Tom, if I 
remember anything about it — and you preached to 
him.” 

“ Oh, certainly, certainly,” and Mr. Roslyn gravely 
advanced and shook hands with Tom. “A boy of 
parts, with a strong call, I felt sure, for propagating 
the Gospel. Did you have opportunity to look into 
the books I marked for you in the catalogue ? ” 

“Not yet,” said Tom, as much at sea as on the 
former occasion of his meeting with this gentleman. 

! “ The warm weather, I suppose,” and he looked 

i slightly disappointed. “ Do n’t neglect them, how- 
j ever ; youth, my boy, is the time in which to store 
I the mind with lofty thoughts, noble ambitions, with 
i the golden words of the heroes of the world. It is all 
1 yours for the reading.” 

j “ I wish I could hear you talk again the way you 
i did that day,” said Tom, sincerely. “ That was what 
I I call preaching,” using Mr. Roslyn’s own expres- 
; sion. 

The scholarly face flushed with pleasure. 

“A boy of parts, Laramie. Urge him to the culti- 
vation of a correct taste in literature,” and with a 
slight bow to all he withdrew. 


226 


HTS BEST FRIEJVD 


Laramie always thought her father’s obtuseness 
delightful, but she was particularly charmed with this 
evidence of it. 

You ought to come and see father, Tom. He 
would love to have you, and he could tell you more 
about things you would like to know about than 
any person I could think of. There ’s more to that 
last hymn, Tom. They only sang one verse of it.” 

Is there? ” 

Miss Roslyn repeated the words. 

‘‘You know everything.” Tom’s voice showed his 
astonishment. “ I like the first verse best, though.” 

“ Come, Tom,” said Laramie, “ I want you to 
come down with me into the study to see Uncle 
David. I think he is there now.” 

“ He won’t want to see me, will he? ” 

“ Oh, yes ! He said to have you come in if he 
was at home.” 

So they went down, though Tom wished he was 
going right on out the front door. 

“Uncle David, Tom ’s here; I want to bring him 
in here to show him a picture.” 

“ Why, certainly. Glad to have him come in. 
How is business, Tom ? ” 

“ It ’s extra good,” said Tom. 

“Trade has improved under your management, 
has n’t it? ” 

“It is better; but then, it had to be better or 
nothing at all.” 


A PORTRAIT 


227' 


Here is the picture, Tom,^' said Laramie, show- 
ing him a large photograph that hung on the wall, 
of the Flight into Egypt.” 

Tom looked at it a long time and heaved a sort of 
a sigh. It must be nice to be able to come and 
look at it when you want to.” 

Yes, it is. It is one man’s idea of that particular 
scene, and one I like. Of course there are others.” 

Mr. Roslyn was grimly looking at Tom. He 
wanted to talk to him ; wanted to have him stay 
there in the room and feel at ease ; but he did not 
know how to manage it. Tom turned around to 
go, and faced the other side of the room. When in 
there before he had backed out, and had not seen 
that wall at all. 

A life-size picture, an oil painting, hung on the 
wall in the best light possible, where Mr. Roslyn in 
his desk chair always faced it. 

My golly ! ” 

Laramie started. Mr. Roslyn squared back his 
shoulders at the sudden exclamation. 

John ! What ’s yohn doin’ here? ” 

Laramie did not dare to say a word. Mr. Roslyn’s 
face was quite pale and had a very set look. 

“What do you mean? ” 

Tom felt the strain in the atmosphere and sup- 
posed it was because he swore “ golly.” 

“I thought it was John,” he stammered. Then, 
bracing up to the occasion, “ It looked alive, you 


228 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


see, and I only saw the eyes. It does look like 
John, anyway, even if it is only a little fellar in a 
white dress.” 

He studied the picture attentively and no one said 
anything. A two-year old boy in a white dress, a 
little boy’s dress. He held a small cane in both 
hands, a red cane, with a little white dog’s head on 
it. The child’s face was peculiarly serious and 
thoughtful; the eyes, as they looked unwaveringly 
from the canvas, were baffling in their childish 
solemnity. Nobody could guess the pain the look 
in those eyes had worked in David Roslyn’s heart as 
he had sat in his office chair and looked at his boy’s 
picture, the questions those eyes had asked him, the 
appeals they had made, the awful rebuke he con- 
ceiv^ed to rest in them because he had failed to bring 
him back. 

'H can’t help it,” said Tom, decidedly. 'Ht looks 
just like John, and there ’s that there little cane, too. 
But I ’m sorry I had to go and be such a fool.” 

He started to move toward the door, but he was 
stopped. Mr. Roslyn had risen gently, led the boy 
around to his chair, sat down, and stationing him 
between his knees so that he faced the picture, kept 
both hands on him, and said in a quiet, repressed tone*: 

‘^That picture, Tom, is a picture of my only child, 
Winthrop Roslyn. His mother died when he was 
born ; he was all I had— all. He was lost when he 
was two years old — that age. I do n’t know how. I 


A PORTRAIT 


229 


never knew liow. Now I want to know what boy 
you mean when you say some one looks like that?” 

Well, how did you ever go to work to lose a 
nice little fellar like that?” said Tom, still wrapped 
up in the picture and oblivious to the questions. 

Mr. Roslyn began very patiently; he was n’t deal- 
ing just with a boy now. His business instincts 
were at work. 

“ He had a nurse from the time of his birth, whom 
we all esteemed very highly. Her care for him 
seemed to be unremitting. She was faithfulness 
itself, and the child loved her. But, for all that, one 
afternoon he was allowed to play on the steps and 
walk, right out here in front of the house. In time I 
was sent for hastily, and he was gone. There was 
no doubt whatever in any one’s mind of his imme- 
diate recovery. The whole force of the city was on 
the alert, detectives were at work at once. I 
expected him every minute — every minute, do you 
hear? ” with a sharp clutch on Tom’s arm that made 
him wince, — “ and everything has been done ever 
since. But I do n’t believe we ever had any real 
trace of him. Now tell me, Tom, do you know a 
boy like that? ” 

“ Well, I should say I did ! Nicest boy you ever 
saw; different from any other boy, but the best boy 
on earth.” 

‘‘Has he parents? ” 

“ No.” 


230 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


When did they die? ” 

Never had any, just lived with an old blind man 
and led him around till he was about seven years old.” 

Laramie stepped forward quickly to see if anything 
was the matter with her uncle, but he had remained 
immovable. It was well known in the family that 
his hopes had run the highest some seven years 
before over reports of a boy with a blind man. But 
it had all come to nothing. 

“ What does he look like? ” 

“ Looks like that, just those eyes. Oh, different, 
maybe — thinner, you know.” 

'' Is it a child that age? ” 

‘‘ Why, no ! Must be eleven years old. Mother 
Lide says so. He ’s shorter a little than me, and not 
so heavy.” 

‘^Whom does he live with?” 

Mother Lide. She ’s kept him since he was 
seven years old.” 

‘‘ What for? ” 

’Cause he needed it, I suppose. She ’s kind, she is ! ” 

Do you know her? ” 

“ My, yes ! She ’s let me live with her two years 
back. John and I, we slept in a little place together, 
and thought a lot of each other. You see, John, he 
was always so lonesome and different, folks liked him, 
but he did n’t make up to people. The boys liked 
him, you know, but he never was in with them, nor 
around with them. He seemed so lonesome like, and 


A PORTRAIT 


231 


he was smart to talk, too, just with me and Kathie, 
and he was n’t anybody’s fool either. He knew bot- 
tom from top every time. But after he got to under- 
standing about Jesus Christ he felt different. He 
turned around a good deal. He seemed to catch on 
to the idea that Jesus cared a heap for all our tene- 
ment folks and that if they were His friends he ’d 
better feel more as though they could be friendly to 
him, and he could be friendly to them. And he 
seemed to feel a lot better. Took more hold, you 
know.” 

“ What about the cane? ” 

Oh, he ’s got that now. There ’s no cane to it, 
nothing but that dog’s head, and about an inch of 
stick. He loves it better than anything. He said he 
thought it was longer once, but he could n’t remem- 
ber it any way but that. It had red glass eyes till a 
boy picked one of them out. Now it’s only got one 
red glass eye. We look at it a lot when nobody ’s 
around. Kathie loves it, too.” 

Laramie.” 

Mr. Roslyn’s voice sounded strange. 

^‘Yes, uncle.” 

“Didn’t I always say Winthrop would look very 
much when he was twelve or thirteen as he did when 
he was little ? ” 

“ Yes, uncle.” 

“ He had that sort of a face, Tom, what is his 
name?” 


232 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


‘‘John.” 

“John what? ” 

“ John Russ.” 

Laramie stepped forward with a low cry, scarcely 
daring to place her hand on her uncle’s shoulder and 
yet longing to express her sympathy, her belief that 
at last something had come to pass. 

Winthrop had always said his name was John. 
From the time he had first talked, and he was a 
startlingly precocious child about talking, he had un- 
failingly said his name was John ; and when he added 
a second name the name was Russ, instead of Roslyn. 
His mother was a Winthrop, and Winthrop the boy 
was always called by his father and by others before 
his father, but Laramie well remembered people call- 
ing him “ little John Russ.” 

“ Laramie,” said Mr. Roslyn, turning his head and 
looking at her with a drawn, tense face, and speaking 
in a desperately quiet voice, “ I know it is Win- 
throp.” 

“ I do, too, uncle,” said Laramie, but she was 
afraid to say more. 

“Whom is he with?” he asked again. 

“ Mother Lide.” 

“ Was she kind to him ? ” wistfully. 

“ I should think she was ! John was lucky, he was ! 
Mother Lide often told us how she took him first. 
He lived in the tenement built onto our back. It 
opens onto the same court, but it ’s lots worse — awful 


A poim^A/'r 


233 


rotten concern ; ours is good. The blind man died, 
I guess; anyway, John — he was only about seven — 
he was all alone and sick, and thin as thin could be, 
and could n’t hold his head up, and she nursed him 
up and kept him right with her, and fed him the best 
she could get, and strengthened him up till he could 
get around, and then she kept him right along. She 
keeps an apple stand, and she had Kathie, too, and 
sometimes it was poor pickings and no great to wear, 
but John always had what there was, and covers 
nights. John was well off.” 

Tom had been held facing the picture ; now he 
turned around squarely and looked into Mr. Roslyn’s 
eyes. 

“ Mother Lide is Reddy’s mother. If John is your 
boy, she did better by him than you was willing to 
do by Reddy.” 

A wave of color flushed Mr. Roslyn’s face. For a 
moment he leaned his head on his hand. Laramie 
looked at Tom anxiously. 

“ I can’t go to her for my boy unless I take her 
son,” he said to himself. Then aloud, “ Tom, get 
Reddy; we must start. Tell him I’ll see to him; 
tell him anything you like. A train leaves at two 
o’clock in the morning, and we must take it; fmisty 
I say.” 

‘‘ Reddy is n’t here.” 

'' Is n’t here? ” 

No, sir. He could n’t get anything to do. But 


234 


HJS BEST FRIEND 


he ’s promised he would go to a place that ’s the next 
station from there on our road — just outside the city. 
If he got work there, I expect we could get him.” 

Mr. Roslyn was looking at a time-table. Gets in 
there at 7.30. We can try it. Can get a train every 
few minutes from there. I ’ll try that much. Now, 
Tom, you must stay right here and go with me on 
that train. I can’t take the ten o’clock, and we 
could n’t do anything until morning, anyway.” 

Tom looked aghast. What about the Bowers, and 
the hymn, and everything? 

I ’ve got to go back to Bower’s.” 

“ Why?” 

“ Why, I ’ve got to. They won’t know where I 
am. I ’ll come back.” 

‘T ’m afraid to lose sight of you.” 

Laramie interposed at this juncture, and a few 
practical words reassured her uncle enough so that he 
very reluctantly consented to Tom’s going. Tom’s 
relief showed in every look he gave Laramie. 

Laramie, call your father. Tom, if you are go- 
ing, go as soon as possible. I shall not be easy a 
minute until you are with me again.” 

Nor after that, either,” thought Laramie. 

So Tom started on a run a second time from the 
Roslyns, as wildly excited as he could be at the 
thought of all that might happen to John, and at the 
thought of seeing them all, and Kathie, and of taking 
Reddy back again. Would Reddy be there? 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE TENEMENT 

The Bowers were not prepared for the hot, breath- 
less boy precipitated upon them as they sat on their 
back doorstep. 

He told his Story as coherently as he could, and 
by dint of a great many questions the Bowers finally 
gained a fairly comprehensive view of the situation. 
It was years since either of them had been much in- 
terested in anything outside of their own wretched- 
ness, and the effect was highly tonic. 

“ Tom, I shall be so sorry to have you gone,” said 
Mrs. Bower, and the tone expressed a world more 
than the words. I wish you had something to wear.” 

Tom had been blessing himself at intervals because 
Reddy had not shaken him by his shirt, but he was 
also woefully conscious of the extreme danger both 
his garments were in of yawning dismally at some 
inopportune moment. 

“ Now, Tom,” said Mr. Bower, in so decided a 
tone that his wife looked at him twice to see if it was 
the same man, you Ve been a good boy and you Ve 
worked hard, and as for paying you, that’s out of 
the question, but I want you to take a dollar and buy 
you something before you go back to that house. It 
235 


236 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


would do me good to know you had bought some- 
thing you wanted to have.” 

Can I buy just what I please? ” 

“Yes, that ’s what I want you to do.” 

“ Well, I want to buy a knife.” 

Mr. Bower laughed out loud. He had n’t laughed 
since before he dropped Willie, and Mrs. Bower 
started. Something about the knife made Mr. 
Bower think of some episode in his own boyhood. 
It pleased him. He was glad Tom wanted a knife. 
Mrs. Bower was disappointed. If Tom had only 
chosen to get something to wear ! However, she 
was glad he was to have a dollar. 

“ I found out those words, Mr. Bower, and I ’m 
going to sing them and play them to you, and then 
I ’ll have to go. I ’m coming back, though, to see 
you all, you can depend upon it.” 

But they did not believe it. 

Tom sang the words, not once but three times, 
and Mr. Bower grew more and more thoughtful. It 
touched him. He believed it. He believed the 
boy. Perhaps there was a more hopeful way before 
him. His wife had known something about it. 
Perhaps they could make a new start. At least they 
could try. And it was in a very quiet, tender mood 
that they all said good-bye and wished good wishes 
and parted. 

The first thing to do was to get the knife. The 
store he had always desired to go into to look at 


THE TENEMENT 


237 


knives was open, though there were no customers, 
and Tom walked boldly in, clutching his dollar. 

I want the very best knife — boy’s knife — you 
j can sell me for a dollar, with things in it.” 

He banged down his dollar on the counter, quite 
conscious that his appearance did not suggest the 
’ pos.session of a dollar. 

The clerk laughed good-naturedly. ‘^All right, sir. 
The best dollar knife it shall be.” 

He started to show some, then hastily replaced 
them, and said, “There, now, the very thing! . You 
were born under a lucky star.” 

He took down a green box with just three knives 
in it. 

“How’s that for a beauty? Hoof-cleaner,” — 

i opening everything up — “ awl, corkscrew, — feel of 
that blade, — hie, snippers ; what do you think of that?” 

“ My,” gasped Tom, “ that ’s more ’n a dollar 1 ” 

“ Two-dollar- and-a-half knife. Only three left, 

, and the boss said to-night we ’d put them in the 
; window marked a dollar to-morrow morning; and 
you can just as well have one to-night. How ’d you 
! get your dollar? ” 

“ I ’ve been working for a grocery man that had 
his leg broke. I ’ve got to go away and he gave me 
a dollar to buy something with. I wish I had some 
I more money to get a name cut on that plate,” look- 
jl.ing at it a bit regretfully. 

“ What ’s the name? ” 


238 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


''Jed Cooper/’ 

" Is that your name? ” 

" No, it ’s the name of the boy I ’m going to give 
it to.” 

" That ’s funny,” said the clerk in surprise. 

" Why, you see he gave me some cherry pie and 
other things, a spell back, when I was pretty near 
starved, and I ’m going to be in that place to-morrow 
morning, where he lives, and I thought if I could 
give him something I ’d be awful glad to do it.” 

" I can mark some myself, and if you like I can 
put J. C. on there ; that won’t take any time, and it 
will show it ’s meant for him.” 

" Well, you are a good fellow !” burst out Tom. 

The knife was marked, and Tom with a radiant 
smile of thanks started off on a dead run again. 

Laramie was waiting out on the front steps. 

"I’m glad you are here,” she laughed. "Uncle 
has kept me watching for you the last half hour.” 

When Tom had left the Roslyns, Laramie, her 
uncle and her father had adjourned to Miss Roslyn’s 
room, which was the consultation room for all family 
matters, to explain what had happened. Miss 
Roslyn and Laramie agreed with Mr. David Roslyn 
that there was real reason for hope that this boy 
might prove to be Winthrop. Mr. David Roslyn, in 
fact, evidently paid not the slightest attention to any 
doubt on the subject. Conviction had been borne 
into his mind, and he was not disposed to argue the 


THE TENEMENT 


239 

matter. Laramie’s father was more concerned 
for his brother’s probable disappointment. The 
premises seemed very slight to him. 

“At least, David,” said Miss Roslyn, “ if you con- 
template going in the morning and taking Tom with 
you, he ought to have some clothes to go in. It ’s a 
wonder his things stay on him.” 

“ Can’t you see to it, Laramie?” asked her uncle. 

“ Of course I can ! I ’ll have everything he needs 
right here in no time. Dinner has been served this 
fifteen minutes, did you know it?” 

Laramie was something of an adept in buying 
boy’s clothes, and her instincts informed her what 
sort of clothes Tom would be satisfied to wear to his 
old home. She had bought clothes for boys of his 
sort, age and size before, and she did not have to 
spend long in doing it. 

When she returned, accompanied by a boy carry- 
ing her purchases, she found her uncle shut up with 
her father and his lawyer. The lawyer was hugely 
disgusted ; that a business man like his client Roslyn 
should be so upset by a street boy’s tale seemed 
incredible. It was all well enough for him to look 
up the matter, and to do so at once. That was 
business sense ; but Roslyn believed it. He believed 
he was going to see his boy in the morning. 

“ Why, man, you ’re wild,” exclaimed the lawyer 
in his heat. He could not bear to think of the 
shock of disillusion. 


240 


H/S BEST FRIEND 



** I say he will know me, if it is Winthrop ! 

Know you ! He was lost before he was two >; 
years old.” 'i 

He was the smartest child any of our family or 
friends ever saw,” replied Mr. Roslyn. He seemed 
to know and understand everything. I used to talk 
to him about my business always.” 

“ Well, I ’m sure he did n’t talk back about it.” 

“ He seemed to remember and know things. He 
talked younger than any child I ever heard of. He 
was n’t like other children. I believe if it is Win- 
throp he will know me himself. But if he does n’t, I 
shall know him. He had a face that could n’t change 
much.” 

There was no use arguing with a man like that, 
and they returned to their papers and business mat- 
ters and worked until late in the night. 

Laramie took Tom up to a bath-room, showed 
him all the things he was to use, and the new clothes, 
and told him to come out in the hall when he was 
through. 

When he appeared she gave a little exclamation of 
surprise. 

Why, Tom, how perfectly lovely you do look ! 
How well it fits! Shoes big enough? ” 

It was exactly the sort of a suit Tom would have 
liked to buy himself, a double-breasted gray suit. 

The blouse collar was just the right sort of a 
sensible boy’s collar, and the necktie was all right. 


THE TENEMENT 


241 


and the stockings were black, and the shoes were low 
tennis shoes, just such as the boys he knew who had 
shoes wore in summer, and the cap was an ordinary 
I cap, just what he liked, and he was about as set up 
' as he could be. In one pocket he had the new knife 
and in another his mouth-organ, and in his breast 
I pocket a handkerchief. 

I ‘‘Clothes suit you, Tom? ” 

I “I should just think they did. They Te exactly 
right. You do know just about all there is to know ! ” 

“ Oh, of course,” laughed Laramie. “All my 
friends see that at a glance. Now, young man, of 
course you are hungry, and it is late, and you will 
have to be routed out before you know where you 
are. Just come with me.” 

Down in the dining-room she set out before him 
the most extravagantly served meal in the way of 
cloth, cutlery and glass that it had ever been his lot 
to observe. The edibles were not to be despised, 

I either, as he found on trying them. 

I! “ I do n’t eat this way every day,” he chuckled. 
“ It might be worse.” 

There was a cosy little nook off the hall, with a 
; couch and pillows. 

“ Now, Tom, take off your shoes and your jacket 
and your waist and necktie. Then lie down there 
and go to sleep. I ’ll call you in time enough to get 
them all on again.” 

She went back again after a while; Tom was 
16 


242 


ms BEST FRIEND 


sound asleep. Ti e shaded light in the hall threw a 
soft light on the boy. She looked at him a moment. 
She did not know that he had gone to sleep with 
his heart full of tumultuous thanks to the Friend who 
cared, and who knew it all, and who could be trusted, 
no matter what the outcome of the morrow ; but she 
guessed it, and she went away glad that the news of 
the boy John had come through this boy. It seemed 
the best sort of an omen. 

The rising in the night, the stir in the house, the 
cups of bouillon, the warm, half-tearful farewells, the 
rattling away to the station in a hack, the unbroken 
silence of Mr. Roslyn, the elegance of the sleeping- 
car, the obsequiousness of the porter, the mysteries 
of the top berth just above Mr. Roslyn, — the kaleido- 
scopic effect of that night in Tom’s memory was not 
soon overcome. And in the morning it was almost 
as strange : the washing and dressing in the toilet- 
room, the leaving the car at that last station before 
reaching the city, the silent impatience of Mr. Ros- 
lyn — Tom could not be sure he was really awake ex- 
cept when he felt that new knife in his pocket. 

If it had not been so early, too early to really ac- 
complish anything, Mr. Roslyn would have thought 
twice about trying to take Reddy with him. As it 
was, one effort could be made with very little loss, 
and perhaps with some gain. 

This must be your affair, Tom,” said Mr. Roslyn. 
‘‘ You must go to the place where he promised to go, 


THE TEHEMEATT 


243 


see if he is there or has been there, pr, if possible, 
where he has gone. If you see him you must get 
him to come with us, for this one day at least. Now, 
you can’t take too long ; an hour and a half at the 
outside.” 

‘‘All right, sir,” and Tom set off at a good pace 
down the street to the road. 

He was soon at the place where they had all sat 
that morning, and then he struck off across dots 
toward the aunt’s house, as he called it in his mind. 
Just as he reached a fence which gave him a view of 
the house, he saw a familiar figure coming toward 
him. Tom leaped from the fence and dashed on. 

“ Reddy !” he shouted. 

Reddy was walking, looking at the ground. He 
raised his head and stopped short. 

There wasn’t any use in saying anything. To see 
Tom there at that juncture was peculiar enough, but 
such a Tom, shoes and stockings and everything ! 

“Am I crazy, or are you?” said Reddy. 

Tom had grasped Reddy’s arm. 

“Now, say; what you think? I’ve come for 
you ! ” 

“ Oh, have you? ” was the reply. “ What else? ” 

“ No fooling, Reddy. Did you get work at the 
aunt’s house? ” 

“Yes; she’s a good woman and no mistake. She 
gave me a job, but she said to begin with that it 
would n’t last no longer than day before yesterday. 


244 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Then she kept, me on two more days, so I ’d get a 
little more pay, and she ’s been mighty kind and 
good. She ’s most awful stirring and a most uncom- 
mon hand to preach, but a downright good woman, 
and I hope I pleased her.” 

‘‘And now what you going to do? ” 

“ Well, I was starting oiit to walk back to the city. 
Seems as though I was just drawn there. I like the 
noise of cars and wagons and bells, and lots of peo- 
ple, but it makes me most crazy to hear chickens and 
cows and crickets and tree-toads and all these things 
people out here do n’t hear at all. I like a city- 
brick sidewalks, you know.” 

“ So do I. Do n’t give me no country in my lot, 
^cept just to see it once in a while ! What was you 
going to do in the city? ” 

“ Tom,” earnestly, “ am I fit for anything but a 
bartender? Now just answer me that.” 

“ You ’ll do no bar-tending,” laughed Tom, though 
he gripped Reddy’s arm tighter. 

“ Where ’d you steal all those dude clothes, Tom?” 
“ Do you know the Capital Wholesale Grocery 
Co., Reddy, where I traded for Bower? ” 

“Well, don’t I?” with an amused smile. “We 
did n’t get to hear about much else from you ! ” 

“ Mr. Roslyn owns that. He wants me to take him 
to Mother Tide because he thinks John, a boy that 
lives with her, and that I told him about, is his boy. 
He lost one when he was little.” 


THE TENEMENT 


245 

Oh, come off ! Why didn’t you tell him you 
were the boy? ” 

''And even though you did n’t tear my shirt that 
I night, I reckon he thought I might come to pieces 
on the road. I told him Mother Lide’s son was 
j working here, and he wanted you to go along back 
with us to-day, if you could get off work or was n’t 
I working.” 

" Tom, get at the facts, and quick, or you ’ll wish 
you had.” 

" I am, Reddy. That is exactly so. He ’s waiting 
at the station up here, and would n’t give me long. 
He ’s in a hurry. You come now with me and act 
like a man, and I swear to it you ’ll get a place in his 
, wholesale store, or somewhere, and just get a first- 
‘ class start. It ’ll be the making of you and Mother 
Tide and Kathie.” 

"Tom, does he know about me?” 

"Yes, he knows all about you. He knows it was 
you and Brown burgling his house. That was his 
i house.” 

" The dickens it was ! ” 

" He knows all about it, and his mind ’s so full of 
his boy he do n’t care for anything else on earth, and 
he wants you to come on back to your mother, and 
if you show any back-bone at all you ’ll find this will 
be the making of you, whether John turns out to be 
I his boy or not. Now say Yes, and do n’t keep me in 
I such a fuss. You can’t lose a thing by going, and 


246 HIS BEST FRIEHD 

you ’ll spoil everything all around if you do n’t 

go " 

Bless you, Tom, you do n’t have to urge so,” said 
Reddy, rather slowly. ‘‘ I promised your — your 
Friend, this morning, that I ’d try through this one 
day, anyway, and that the first thing that turned up 
that was honest I ’d lay hold of, so I reckon I ’ll have 
to,” with a laugh. 

Good for you, Reddy ! now we are all right,” 
and he could n’t help thinking, ‘‘ I need n’t have been 
so anxious with You beside me.” 

Say, Reddy, I want to see Jed Cooper just a 
minute.” 

“All you ’ll have to do will be to look at him, 
then. You ’re the kind of a fellow, you know, where 
wanting a thing is having it.” 

Reddy whirled Tom around by the shoulders, and 
there, perched on a fence some twenty feet away, was 
Jed staring at them. 

“ Hello, Jed ! ” shouted Tom. “ Know me? I ’m 
going into the city on the next train, but I want to 
see you.” 

Jed, broadly smiling, descended from his post as 
Tom reached him. 

“ Here, Jed, here ’s a present for you. Is n’t she a 
beauty, though ? Look at that,” and he whipped out 
the hoof-cleaner and the corkscrew and the awl and 
the snippers and the blades as fast as any clerk ever 
did, while Jed’s eyes all but popped out of his head. 


THE TENEMENT 


247 


‘‘Got your name on it, see? Good-bye; I got to 
hurry ! ” 

Jed took the knife, staring, but he had not said a 
word. 

“ Good-bye,” said Tom, and rejoining Reddy he 
walked rapidly away with him. 

“Hello, Tom, I say!” shouted Jed, and as Tom 
looked back, “ Thank you I Thank you no end I 
Good-bye I ” 

Reddy did some busy thinking on his way back to 
the station. He did not like anything about it. He 
did not like having to run the risk of facing Mr. Ros- 
lyn ; he did not like being taken back to his mother, 
but he had the feeling that he had promised, and 
stick to it he would. 

“After all,” he thought, “perhaps it really is a new 
start. Perhaps I ’ll begin fre.sh now ; and I know 
well enough I could n’t begin and go on well until I 
had seen my mother.” 

PI is heart was rebelliously hungry to see her and 
hear her voice, and there was a certain relief about 
having the matter taken out of his hands. 

Mr. Roslyn was striding up and down the station. 
He was pleased for a moment to see Tom and Reddy. 
One thing more had gone smoothly, and that seemed 
favorable, but his preoccupation was too great to 
permit of any further attention to either of them. 
Tom was afraid Mr. Roslyn would walk to the city, 
he seemed so impatient, but finally the train came 


248 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


and they whirled away in to the familiar Central sta- 
tion. The very boys were known to Tom ; the ex- 
citement of it all crowded upon him. His heart 
exulted. His thought outran itself and he had seen 
the tenement and all the people before they were out 
of the station. 

Mr. Roslyn saw that they all had a little something 
to eat right there at the station, and then a hack rat- 
tled them off to the old tenement. 

‘‘Will John be there now?’' asked Mr. Roslyn in 
that same quiet, strained voice. 

“ He will be if he has got back from helping 
Mother Lide go to the stand.” 

They got out at the tenement. 

“ Hello, Jim ! I ’m back ! Hello, Sally ! Hello, 
Jenny ! And look at the Corrigans ! ” Tom was 
wild with delight. 

The children, astonished at the hack, at the hand- 
some gentleman, and, more than all, at Tom’s fine 
array, stood awed and silent, staring. As they went 
up the stairs, doors on the landings were opened and 
people peered out at the procession of three. 

Tom opened the door of Mother Tide’s room. 
There sat Kathie in the same old chair by the win- 
dow. She looked bewildered, then cried out, “Tom ! ” 

“ Kathie ! ” and he ran to her, seizing her hands, 
and shaking them, and laughing, and nearly crying, 
while she, the same excitable little Kathie, laughed 
and cried all at once. 


THE TENEMENT 


249 


Oh, Tom, I ’m so glad ! Oh, Tom, how splendid 
you look ! Oh, Tom ! ” and then she saw the tall, 
dignified, gray-haired gentleman standing in the 
doorway and the slender young fellow behind. 

“ This is Mr. Roslyn, Kathie. He ’s John’s father 
— at least, we think so. Kathie is John’s best friend, 
Mr. Roslyn.” 

Mr. Roslyn came gravely across the floor to the 
little damsel and took the thin little hand in his. The 
respite given him when he saw no boy in the room 
was after all a blessing. He must still that suffoca- 
tion in his heart. 

Sit down, Mr. Roslyn, please,” said Kathie in her 
sweet little timid way, and Mr. Roslyn found he could 
smile into the blue eyes. 

Come, Reddy,” said Tom. ‘‘Kathie, he’s your 
Uncle Billy. Looks just like you, too.” 

“Are you Reddy?” asked Kathie delightedly. 
“ Oh, how nice ! Won’t grannie be happy ! ” 

Reddy found that there was something in blood, 
after all. He had a glad, warm feeling when he 
looked at the little girl, and he thought of twenty 
things all in a minute that he would like to do for 
her. 

“ Mother Lide and John at the stand, Kathie? ” 

“Yes. Oh, Tom, we’re going to have our flower 
show to-night — this afternoon and evening. I said 
right along I knew you ’d have to be here. I just 
said to God every night to please have you back. 


250 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


You know the way Emily always did. Do n*t 

they look spi 1 ? ” 

The plants did deed look very flourishing, but Tom 
could n’t stop to ( amine them. He knew he must 
get Mother Tide t \d John there very quickly from 
the way Mr. Rosly was beginning to look at him. 

If you will wa. here, Mr. Roslyn, I can run to 
the stand and j et f ‘m both back very quick.” 

Waiting war po * work, but it seemed the best 
way. 

Tom looked at Reddy imploringly. 

You ’ll act fair, won’t you, Reddy? ” 

Oh, I’ll stay/’ said Reddy. ‘‘I want to talk to 
Kathie. I want to know all about the plants.” 

He was anxious if he did stay to keep up a steady 
conversation with Kathie. To be at the mercy of a 
man whose house he had tried to rob was uncomfort- 
able, to say the least. 

Tom was stopped a dozen times on his way down 
the stairs, while questions poured in on him. He 
was actually grabbed and held tight by more than 
one woman determined to know about things. But 
he was a quick-witted boy, and good-natured as well, 
so he managed to satisfy th " in some sort of a way 
without losing very much tii. and he was soon dart- 
ing along the familiar streets to the stand. 

Oh, Mother Lide,” he shouted. 

She threw her arms around him with a good, 
warm hug, and cried out, — “And Tommie, darlin’, is 


THE TENEMENT 251 

it you? I’m after losin’ my wits with joy. Faith, 
and I ’ll hug you again if you do n’t stand off ! 
Johnnie, did you ever see the like of him? It ’s a 
young prince he is. And have you been adopted ? ” 

Tom was shaking John’s hands and they were 
gazing smilingly at each other without a word to say. 

'' I ’m back,” said Tom at last. 

Good enough, too, I say,” answered John. 

''And saw you Kathie? ” asked Mother Tide. 

" Indeed I did.” 

"And Tommie,” hesitated Mother Lide, " do you 
remember what you wrote in your letter? ” 

" Do n’t I? ” and Tom’s eyes snapped with fun. 

"And how is he — my bye? ” 

"You come on home and you ’ll see.” 

The withered, rosy old face worked pitifully but 
controlled itself finally. 

"Tommie, I’m thinkin’ you’ve been the blessin’ 
of my life.” 

" But see here. Mother Lide. There ’s more, a 
good deal, and John, you listen, too. John, do you 
remember your father? ” 

" He was n’t my father, Tupelo was n’t,” said John 
shortly. 

" I do n’t mean that old dago. I mean your 
father. Do you remember him?” 

John shook his head. " I dream of him a lot — 
always have, but I can’t remember about it when I 
wake up — only just know it.” 


252 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


you remember Miss Roslyn I told you 
about? Well, her uncle lost his boy, a little bit of 
a boy, and I saw his picture, and it looked just like 
you, and I told him so, and in the picture the boy 
had a little cane, and the head of the cane was just 
like yours, Let ’s see it.” 

John pulled it out of his pocket — the little ivory 
dog’s head with a silver collar and one red eye. 

‘‘ That’s it, sure ! He ’s a stunning sort of a man, 
John, but I won’t say any more about that. He ’s 
come to see if it ’s you, or, if you ’re him — or, land, I 
he ’s come to find out, and he ’s back home there 
with Kathie, waiting. And say. Mother Lide, if 
Reddy will take hold any, your Billy I mean, Mr. 
Roslyn will set him on his feet and give him a good 
job, and make a man of him sure as fate, so it ’s a 
windfall for you, too. If Reddy would n’t hang off ^ 
so, Mr. Roslyn would like him, I know. You ’ll just 
have to come back now. Is n’t it the greatest go 
you ever heard of?” 

Faith, and I ’m thinkin’ it ’s one of the miracles ! 
My head ’s clean turned around on my body,” and 
Mother Lide talked unceasingly the whole way, but 
John was silent and troubled. 

Mr. Roslyn had made a desperate effort to over- 
come his indifference to his surroundings, and to 
gather his faculties in some sort of order for the 
coming ordeal ; he had so far succeeded that he 
was talking intelligently with Kathie and Reddy, and 


THE TENEMENT 


253 


by a strong concentration was endeavoring to gauge 
Reddy, his will power, his intentions, and his mental 
attitude. 

Here they come,’^ cried Kathie, clapping her 
hands ; and a deadly silence fell on both Reddy and 
Mr. Roslyn. They stared at the door as if fascinated. 

It opened, and Mother Lide, utterly forgetting all 
her intentions of curtseying to the gentleman and mak- 
ing a suitable speech, rushed with a cry toward Reddy. 

The smooth, boyish face was not so very changed, 
the light in the blue eyes and the smile were quite 
the same, and Reddy’s heart was full ; he thought he 
could n’t stand it. He got his mother into his chair, 
and knelt beside her with his arms around her and 
his face buried in her lap, while she fondled his hair 
and sobbed out all manner of endearing expressions 
and childish names, and crooned over him some relic 
from old Celtic lullabys. 

Tom saw it all with a full heart, and so did Kathie, 
her eyes big with sympathy; but John stood in the 
doorway, his eyes never wavering from Mr. Roslyn’s; 
searching, solemn, questioning eyes, the very eyes 
that had burned their way into his father’s soul from 
the canvas so many days and nights. 

Mr. Roslyn knew. No one on earth could have 
told him those were not his boy’s eyes. 

Come,” he said in a low, pleading tone. He 
must n’t frighten the little fellow. Come.” 

And John moved slowly toward him, never taking 


254 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


his eyes from his father’s ; then, as he reached him, 
touched his knee, and his father, endeavoring to be 
gentle, but terribly afraid lest when he tried to take 
the boy there should be nothing there, as had 
happened so many, many times before, grasped each 
of the thin arms. 

John’s face flushed and paled, and two great tears 
rolled down his cheeks. 

I do remember,” he said. ‘‘ I do. I do. I do 
remember.” 

It was all his father wanted that he should not be 
afraid ; and he gathered him into his arms, held him 
close to his breast, and was quiet, except for the 
violent throbbing of his heart. He did not ever 
want to let him loose. The room at the top of the 
tenement was good enough for him — let the world 
stop. But that was succeeded by a desire to see 
this boy of his, by a sudden fear lest he had changed 
in that moment’s embrace. He held John off on his 
knee and looked at him. It was a pathetic face for 
a father to look at, thin and wistful and unchildish. 
Then John smiled and his father started, gave a 
slight exclamation, and clasped him tightly again, 
afraid he might lose him. 

''You smile just like your mother. You never 
were like your mother in looks, and it hurt me that 
you were not, but, oh, my boy, my little boy, you 
smiled just like your mother. You do n’t know 
your name is Winthrop, do you.^ ” 








THE tenement 


255 

John shook his head, but his eyes look.ed troubled 
again. 

“John Russ, I think,” he 

“ Yes, dear little John Russ. Roshm the name 
is.” 

“ Show him the dog’s head,” said I'om, seeing a 
chance to say something. 

John pulled out the dog’s head. His father re- 
membered it very well. He Icj- ked r.t it with a mist 
before his eyes. He remembered mying it. He 
remembered the little fellow’s pier r<e in it, how he 
slept with it and fed it at the table. 

“ I must keep it myself, dear,” lie said. “ I ’m 
afraid. I ’m afraid I ’ll wake up and you ’ll be 
gone.” 

He laughed and John smiled sym;pathetically. 

“That’s the way it always happe^ned to me. You 
always v/ent when I woke uj). ’ saidl the boy, and his 
father held him close againi 

Then he remembered that ther e were others and 
became aware that Reddy was sitting beside his 
mother, holding her hand and talking. It was like 
the joining of electric currents, tlhose two natures so 
alike, so impulsive, so warm, so quick, so intensely 
affectionate. 

“ We have each found a son, Mrs. — Mrs.” — 

“ Lidedell,” supplemehted R sddy. “ I ’ll never be 
fool enough to leave my mother again,” he added 
warmly. 



2 56 HIS BEST FRIEND 

“ I ‘.Ope not, my boy. You could not make a 
worse mistake. Mrs. Lidedell, if you can tell me 
any facts re;garding my son, anything you know of 
him before he came into your hands, I would be 
glad to have you do so now.” 

‘‘Faith, then, Mr. Roslyn, it’s little to tell I’m 
knowin.’ Avi old, blind Italian, named Tupelo or 
some such nsfime, lived in our back tenement. He 
was the only .Italian in the court, and nobody liked 
it, but he stayed. The boy was a lonesome, for- 
lorn mite of ^ boy, that everybody pitied and had 
a good word for; but Tupelo wasn’t getting many 
good words. .1 was sorry for him and did him a bit 
turn now and then. He needed it, for he was failin’, 
and I asked about the boy, and he said a woman 
had him in the , place he come from, and she was 
terrified about somethin’, and she sold the boy to 
him to lead him, ^glad to have him taken out of the 
place ; and that ’;s all ever he told me. And a sick 
little fellow he wao when he came to me, and a good 
boy he’s been always — unnatural good. It’s a sad 
day it will be for ICathie when you take John.” 

“ Oh, Kathie ! ” John wanted to ask how could 
he leave Kathie, but something kept him still. 

But Kathie sobb(M, and the tears ran down her 
cheeks, and she looked like some pale little dew- 
washed flower. It had been dreadful without Tom, 
even when she was e^xpecting him home every day,|i 
and now to have, John gone, knowing he would 


THE TENEMENT 


257 


never come back, and Tom gone, too. Fo r she was 
sure that, dressed as he was, his fortune n'lust lie in 
other places. A realization of her desola tion swept 
over her intense little soul, and she coi-ild not be 
comforted. [ . 

I know — Emily — never had such a. trouble as 
this ! she sobbed to Tom, who was vaimly trying to 
staunch her tears. ^'And — and the flovver-show we 
were going to have this afternoon ! ” 

‘‘Why, the flower-show will go on ,Kathie, F* — 
began John — but he stopped suddenly. 

Mr. Roslyn could see what was the rr^atter. There 
must be no heart-breaking about this r^ew happiness. 
If he had his boy he had enough, arid he could set 
himself to straightening out this tangle as well as in 
him lay. 

“ Tell me about it, Kathie, and you too, John.” 
He thought it would be better not to add a strange 
name to his own strangeness. “ Tefll nie about the 
flower-show.” 

“ Kathie has been raising flowers from the seed 
and from slips,” said John, in his quiet, direct way. 
“Tom and I helped her start, an i when they were 
large enough we planned to h; ve a flower-show 
down in the court, and sell the n all for a nickel 
apiece. All the court is expectyg it. Mother Tide 
was to come home early, and Kathie was to go 
down, and it was to be great doings.” 

“ Is to be,” said Mr. Roslyrh crushing down all 
17 


258 


HIS BEST FRIEHD 


his eager impatience. ‘^You are that much better 
off, are n’t you, little girl? Do n’t cry. Look at the 
bright sidip of it. Here is your brother back, — 
uncle, is it|? — and Tom is here — and I must see it, 
too, and su.^rely you will let me buy some. The only 
thing I asl) is that, as Mrs. Lidedell will surely not 
be going back to business now, we must have it 
early.” > 

My hot^iouse man, Mr. McGregor, is coming, 
too,” said John proudly. He had one friend he 
could be prC)nd to show his father. What his father 
had done and, said about the flower-show had made 
John’s heart s.well with love. It seemed so kind, so 
good. Oh, if 4ie could only be like that ! 

Tom would not have believed it possible. He 
looked at Mr. I'loslyn with different eyes. 

“Now, Mrs. Lidedell, our time to talk business 
will be short, I see, and you, too, Reddy — I prefer 
your real name.' 

“William.” 

“And you, too, William, must discuss some of 
these matters wi h us. My indebtedness to you, 
Mrs. Lidedell, is .ar more than I could ever hope to^ 
repay in any wa; , and I hope I may be able to 
settle on some pk n, with the aid of all here, that 
will substantially Urove my gratitude ; but without 
reference to that alt present I desire to lay before I 
you a half-formed plan in regard to your son, 
William. At his age, he should already be estab- i 


THE TENEMENT 


259 




lished in some creditable way of earninf^ a liveli- 
hood. He is a smart, bright boy, and provided — 
mark, William, I say provided — he has tine strength 
of will and the principle to choose an ho-nest course 
and adhere rigidly to it, there is no rea son why he 
should not be not only a credit to you but a sat- 
isfaction to his employers. My idea,/ Mrs. Lide- 
dell, is to take William back to my c-ity with me 
now, put him at once at work suitable ko his abilities 
and strength, and advance him just as; fast as he is 
able to stand it. Should this be agreeable to you, 
and to you, William, I will arrange further details 
when I decide on the fitting work.” 

Reddy had been listening with hiis eyes fixed on 
the floor. Could he take hold and \dork? Could he 
get over that restless desire for the; excitements he 
had accustomed himself to? Could ’he start in a fair, 
open, aboveboard way and work — vvork until he was 
thoroughly tired, and begin again, day after day, and 
keep it up, and not fail wretchedly, to the grief of all? 

He remembered his promise of the morning to 
Tom’s Friend. His heart longed for help; it cried 
out piteously for^ strength, and tl le strength seemed 
to come. ''Be my friend. Lord Christ,” he thought 
reverently and yearningly. " Cc^me to me, too ! ” 

He raised his eyes, and Tom, who had been look- 
ing at him, his heart one prayer to his Friend to help 
Reddy, wondered at the clear]', purified light he be- 
held there. f 


26 o 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


I wilf be [^\a.d to try, Mr. Roslyn,” he said, and 
Mr. Roslyn thought, I believe there ’s something in 
the boy, ai:ter all.” 

“ We wi 11 take the five o’clock train back, and as I 
have matteirs of importance to attend to I will go 
now for a time, taking John with me. Tom, you will 
stay here, o^ course, and run the flower-show. That 
must begin at two o’clock, and you must notify the 
whole court to turn out. How many should you say 
there were in The court, Tom, — everybody?” 

Tom could tell with tolerable accuracy, and Mr. 
Roslyn realized with wonder what a human hive the 
three jammed-.in tenements made. 

We will ber here on time. And you must be 
ready, William^ to leave at 4.30 from here. I will 
have a hack.” 

Mother Tide Avas still the victim of alternate smiles 
and tears. Her tears were not like Kathie’s. Her 
fountains had been dried up ; but the old eyes grew 
dim and she must: needs use her apron to wipe them 
with great frequency. 

“Come, John,” said Mr. Roslyn. “Come,” and 
his voice was so tender it faltered ; “we must go now, 
but we will soon bo- back.” 

He held John’s hand; he had not let go of him 
once, but he stoppe d Tom by the door and said in a 
low tone : 

“ I want you to go back with us to-night, Tom. I ’ll 
give you a place in the store as soon as you are 


THE TENEMENT 


261 


through at Bower’s, or right off if that was r’ t a regu- 
lar engagement.” 

Tom’s eyes shone. A place in the Capit al Whole- 
sale Grocery store was the height of ambition 
just at present; but he said very decided ly, though 
regretfully, 

I can’t; I really can’t! Mother Lidje couldn’t 
get along now without either John or me To help her 
to and from the stand, and Kathie woulcJ cry herself 
sick without anybody. I ’ll have to stay. But you ’re 
awful, awful good. I ’ll never forget it ! ” 

Mr. Roslyn paused a moment; then the smile in 
his eyes as he looked down into Tom;’s brown ones 
took away the sting of regret. 

“ That will be better. It will malke very little 
difference. We will all be together in one town soon, 
I think.” He held out his hand a.nd held Tom’s 
brown one firmly in his clasp. 1 1 seemed easy 
enough to handle a boy now. He felt as though 
Tom really belonged to him. 

You little scamp of a burglar, y'ou 1 ” he said in 
a low voice, and laughed slightly. 


i 


CHAPTER XVII 


AT HOME 

‘'Can yjfou get used to the name of Winthrop, 
John?” asl':ed his father as they went down the tene- 
ment house (Stairs, well aware that at every door was 
a crowd of curious watchers. h 

“ I can ge t used to anything you say, I think,” said 
John, shyly; ' and his father determined not to try 
to talk with P’tat boy of his, lest he should break down 
right on the Street. 

Of course, jclothe^ constituted the first matter off 
importance. i\n outfit was bought, John was initiated^ 
into a Turkish bath, and in due time from the hands 
of barber, ba ther, and gentlemen’s outfitter there 
evolved a ven " well dressed, well gotten-up boy, a ' 
boy with an un usually intelligent, attractive face, but 
with the most di sconcertingly philosophic eyes. j 

Dinner and a rest while they both talked gave Mr. i| 
Roslyn a feeling vof greater assurance, and it was with 
less reluctance than he had believed possible that | 
they set out for tl.ie final trip to the tenement. They | 
stopped at the h othouse that they might tell Mr. i 
McGregor the flow er-show was to be earlier. i! 

“ Shall I buy some more pots of plants for Kathie 
to sell, John? ” ■ 


262 


AT HOME 


263 


Oh, no ! Perhaps they would be prebder, and it 
would make Kathie feel bad to see peop'le wanting 
them most ; but if she could have some cr t flowers to 
give away with each pot she sold, or to' ^sell, I know 
she would like that.” 

“ Very well, cut flowers it shall be ! ” 

Mr. Roslyn gave a most lavish ordei hpr immediate 
delivery. The man who waited on thfern was well 
used to John’s face, and he looked at 'them in open 
bewilderment. 

I ’d like to see Mr. McGregor,” sa id John shyly. 

He’s in yon,” said the man, p< -n^ing to one of 
the houses. ^ 

John went in, followed by Mr. R a yn. 

Mr. McGregor, the flower-shc is going to be 
earlier. Will it make any difference ; about your com- 
ing?” ' . 

“Suit me better,” said Mr. M.cGregor, turning 
around. “ Havers, John, but you ’ re a changed lad- 
die ! Is it you ? ” 

“Yes, sir — this is — my — father.’ ’ 

Mr. Roslyn shook hands warml) ''with the gardener. 
The strong Scotch face attracted ‘‘him. It was some- 
what compensating to find that h .is boy had known a 
man like that in a place so beaiit jful. 

“ I wad scarcely have believed the lad had a father,” 
said Mr. McGregor, doubtfully . The situation was 
explained to him, and he shool c hands with John and 
said some words of congrr *,tulation. “But I’m 


i. 

264 * HIS BEST FRIEND 

no concv *ilin’ it’s a bit disappointin’ to me,” he 
continuec to Mr. Roslyn. “The lad’s so fond 
of flowers and so biddable, and so discernin’, and 
so winniii’ to the heart, that I had come to the 
notion of g*ettin’ him in here with me to learn the 
business, an d I had a fine vision of him growin’ up 
to own a part, and bein’ a man to look up to. 
Well, I ’m iio sayin’ you can’t do well by him 
yoursel’.” 

John’s eyes shone at his description. Acting very 
impulsively h'^r him, he took one of the gardener’s 
hands with b oth his and held it. He scarcely 
dared say how proud he would have been of such a 
chance. 

“ He will thii^ik he has lost the opportunity of his 
life, Mr. McGntgor,” said Mr. Roslyn. “We will 
try not to let thiis acquaintance fall through. I hope 
to have some tall c with you if possible at the flower- 
show this afternoon. Come, John, we still have a 
good deal to do.” 

“ Now, John,” when again in the street, “ we have 
to leave at half paot four, and I want to order enough 
ice-cream and ca ^<e for the whole tenement to be 
served there when ^ we go. You can give a little 
pleasure to your frie nds perhaps.” 

“ Oh ! How — hc^w kind you are,” and John’s 
eyes were filled with . a sort of wistful admiration that 
unnerved his father ; again. He must get used to 
those eyes in some wa-iy. 


AT HOME 


265 

They had enough things to do. Jolin, 9\iter being 
urged by his father to say something he 'wanted to 
do before leaving, confided to him that he ^>vould like 
to leave presents for the babies he had m inded, and 
the best things of all he bought for Plans Kraf, 
knowing that Tom would see to gettirigj them out 
there. Kathie had selected her very . ic :est pots of 
flowers, three of them, for Frau Kraf an id Gretchen 
and Hans, and John knew Tom would tal^e them out 
as soon as possible. 

When they reached the tenement the y found that 
a great deal had been accomplished. T he court had 
been quite extensively cleaned up, and .a good many 
women had brought down chairs that dhey might sit 
and chat and hold their babies ; a great . many people 
had already gathered and people in a Fiitate of prepa- 
ration for descent could be seen at alii the windows. 
The children for the most part showed . some attempt 
at finery and adornment. Reddy .and Tom and 
a few scattering assistants had erechfd a booth for 
Kathie, constructed of boxes and ironiing-boards and 
a couple of sheets. The pots of ».flowers, freshly 
watered, stood in sturdy array and aiyoused the most 
flattering comments. * 

Kathie, in her clean, faded duss, with her reddish 
curls most painstakingly brushed, ;tand wearing her 
hat lest she might never have a iotbier chance to do 
so, was beamingly happy, seated ijn her chair back 
of her flower-pots. She knew J ohn would come 


266 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


soon, an'H that was the only thing lacking to her 
complete ♦ happiness. Mother Lide sat near the 
booth who^re she could look at and talk to Kathie, 
though h(£r eyes rarely wandered from Reddy, who 
was facing^ it out before the tenement with rising 
pluck and; spirits, and was already winning com- 
plimentary : remarks from many of the women. 

Young jMrs. Mulhaley was there, avowing her 
intention toi) be the first purchaser when the show 
opened. 

“And, Tom, I ’m that glad to see you back,” she 
said to him, and as he looked at her with a certain 
understandinig and questioning in his eyes, she added 
in a low voi fce, “ I ’d never want anybody to know I 
said so, but I dl always believe you helped me that 
night. Joe clean swore off since then, and though 
they chaff hir.ln frightful, he sticks right to it. I Ve 
wanted to tell you.” 

He smiled ?;ind was glad, for he had always liked 
Joe Mulhaley a.nd his pretty wife. 

The great bcDx of cut flowers came for Kathie, and 
Reddy kept Ojff onlookers while Tom and Kathie, 
scarcely able tco repress their excitement, opened it 
in the most sec^fluded spot they could And. That 
John had known what Kathie would like was in- 
stantly proven b; y Kathie laying out a flower to give 
away with each goot. They made two large bunches 
to go on the stars d, and Tom arranged them in two 
pickle-jars. Thceir appearance at each end of the 


\ 


i 


. /at HOME 267 

lines of pots raised a tremendous hubb,ub in the 
court. The rest they made into small ^ounchei to 
sell for a cent and two cents a bunch, an« ^ laid them 
in water. 

“ It was John, was n’t it? ” whisperc F{;athie. 

'‘Mr. Roslyn,” said Tom. “ Jc 1 1 ’s got no 
money.” 

“ My, what a kind man ! Do n’t yo .u ^vish he ’d 
stayed away and left John here? ” 

“ I would n’t have been back now If h e had.” 

Kathie clutched him tightly. “ Well ^ I guess it ’s 
better as it is. John certainly needs a father.” She 
endeavored to speak resignedly. 

“Oh, yes, it’s better,” and Tom’s, eyes danced 
with fun. There never was such a.n entertainino- 
little girl as Kathie, he was sure. 

The magic hour arrived when tl^e sale was to 
open, and the only regret with ev ‘rylaody was that it 
must needs so soon be over. The c^hildren filed up 
with their five-cent pieces or thejir pennies, and 
proudly carried away their little c?ans of greenery, 
usually hurrying away with them j to a safe place 
before accident befell the treas vres'^^ and it was not 
long before many of the windows kpoking out on the 
court were graced with a little pJant flaunting its 
green leaves as bravely as though the heavy air of 
the court was good for flowers. . 

Mr. McGregor came, and lis eyes lighted with 
professional interest. 


268 


* 

HIS BEST FPIEJ^H 

It ’s a grand thing they Ve done, Mr. Roslyn ! 
It ’ll be bei^'ter than if some one had come in with a 
high air a ad given a five-dollar bill to every one. 
There ’s a r,Tand power in flowers, sir.” 

Mr. RoSi^a kept well in the background, where 
he saw he b)clc)nged. As it drew near time to go, he 
motioned t o Reddy and Reddy talked with his 
mother. Tl^^ore is no great opportunity for privacy 
in a teneme at. Much goes on in plain sight that 
others could aot bring themselves to reveal. And 
Reddy made aothing of taking as demonstratively an 
affectionate le^ave of his mother as though they had 
been quite alo.-ae. 

But John hi'id little to say. 

Good-bye,' Kathie. Good-bye, Mother Lide. 
Good-bye, TonW’* 

That was all ^’there was to it. 

John,” said^' his father, “ if you wish to, you 
ought to say g( )od-bye to the others, and tell them 
you want them ^ to enjoy the ice-cream. It ’s just 
coming.” i , 

It wasn’t in Jc^hn’s line at all to do such a thing, 
but he had been ^ trying to look at things differently, 
of late, and his feather’s suggestion would have been 
enough in any cA^e. All the crowd had seen that 
they were about t o leave ; they were rather expecting 
something to hap'^pen, so that every one was quiet, 
and looked at Joh^n as he stood by the booth, and 
in his very clear, q.^iet, easily heard voice said: 


AT HOME 


269 


‘^You have all been very kind to me, ^ind I shall 
remember you all. There is some ice- cream and 
cake coming now for everybody, and I > hope you 
will like it. Good-bye.” 

And how they cheered and clapped, arid the chil- 
dren whooped, and shouted cheers for J(i^hn and for 
the ice-cream, and some of the women cried, and 
many called out : 

Good luck go wid you, Johnnie ! ” , May you 
keep your health!” ‘‘A longlife!” “ The blessed 
saints preserve you ! ” and many more. 

There was something about it that unnerved John, 
and as the three stepped into the h ack, crowded 
around by the whole court, his eyes wei re so misty he 
could see no one distinctly, and a h lalf-suppressed 
sob escaped him. His father had hi*s arm around 
him. Reddy had backed out and got up on the box 
with the driver, and at last Mr. Roslyri felt as though 
he had his boy to himself, his very ovvn. 

On the train he found himself obli ged to face the 
problem of identification. If the o thers could not 
recognize John as he could, and th-ere was not the 
least reason in the world to suppose that they could, 
unless they had remembered his mother’s smile 
longer than was likely, his reasons for believing so 
absolutely that John was Winthrop , were somewhat 
slight. The name, a very ordinal /y one, and the 
more important cane-head ere a ilk However, let 
any one deny it who dared ! lohn had fallen asleep. 


270 


H/S BEST FRIEI^D 


1 

\ 


and his hither gazed with an absorbed interest at the 
thin, well cut face. He could not get his fill of it. ■ 
It was inc redible that surcease of that aching sense 
of loss ha d come at last. He sighed through very 
content. 

He wrolte a note, addressed it, and gave it to ^ 
Reddy. > | 

“Williarfii, when we get in go to this address and 
deliver the jpote. This is a boarding-house solely for 
the employ les of our establishment who have no 
homes in tl'ie city, and care to patronize it. As a ^ 
matter of facibt it is very eagerly sought for, as terms 
are better, arid accommodations also, than can possi- 
bly be founcd elsewhere. This note will settle your 
right to admu'ttance at once, and you will be made ■ 
thoroughly comfortable. Report to this address,” 
giving him arjother note, ‘^at eight o’clock sharp to- 
morrow, and V myself will see you some time during ^ 

the forenoon. - 1 

1 

Now, Will iam, let me speak very earnestly. Any 
lad accustome>d, as you have been, to little or no 
authority, and .to no business discipline, will weary of 
and be endlessl y annoyed by the constant orders, the ij 
supervision, an d the necessity for unerring prompt- I 
ness and accura cy. I know this. I fear it. Let me i 
urge you to det erminedly put down all such feelings. 1 
Let me urge yuA>u to stick manfully to all require- ‘‘I 
ments, and ende^avor to meet them rather than to 
oppose them. Idelieve me, if you heed this warning | 


A 7' HOME 


27 


you will find that restlessness leave you ;! the irk- 
someness will wear off, and you will beconne a thor- 
oughly reliable business man, for you havcf the mak- 
ings of it in you. Let this be enough. Let your 
mother be proud of her son ! ” 

He held out his hand, and Reddy, wiith scarcely 
perceptible hesitation, clasped it. He kne^w just what 
Mr. Roslyn meant, and how much he nee:ded it. 

“Just help me,” he pleaded, to his soul’s Friend. 
“Just help me stick it out until I want to myself.” 

A telegram had announced a successfful return to 
the Roslyn household, for Mr. Roslyn wavnted his boy 
to come back to a welcoming home. Lf he had had 
a fatted calf he would have wanted it prepared for 
the occasion. As it was, such as they, had must be 
made ready. 

And so, though when they reached the house no 
other house in the deserted street was still awake, 
their house was a blaze of light from top to bottom. 

Miss Roslyn rarely left her room;, but she was 
down-stairs. Laramie and her father were anxiously 
waiting. Mr. Roslyn Lee, a connection of the family 
in the employ of the Capital Wholes ale Grocery Co., 
and the young man who had fired th(^ successful shot 
at Reddy, was also waiting to see tho new relative. 

They had found a deal to talk abo ut at first, but as 
the hour grew late silence fell on the; little group, and 
when through the open windows anid door came the 
crash of the hack-wheels, they hiarried out to the 


272 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


Entrance, ' apprehension striving with expectancy for 
the f rst p lace in their minds. 

There was the hurried exit from the hack, the 
word or two with the driver at the door, and the 
clink of change, the slender little lad looking up 
at the brilliantly lighted house, while his father never 
let go of him for an instant; then up the steps they 
came, and .Mr. Roslyn broke the spell with a hearty 
call. 

‘‘All welll? Here we are! Come, Winthrop. I’m 
going to shc?w him to Mary first. Is she down?” 

It relievea^ them all to have Miss Roslyn the first 
one to commiiit herself, but as John passed Laramie 
he saw her lo oking at him with such a bright, amused 
smile that he involuntarily smiled back. 

“ I do just believe it is little John Russ ! ” she was 
startled into tbinking. She had lived at the house a 
great deal during the first two years of his life, and 
had dearly lo \'ed her little kinsman. 

“ Mary,” saiid Mr. Roslyn tenderly, “ I wanted 
Winthrop to sree you first, and get his first welcome 
from you.” 

John timidl}^ extended his hand, his eyes question- 
ing hers. 

“ God be pra ised I” she said fervently. “ It is my 
little John Russ .” 

His face brightened wonderfully. He was not at 
all sure about being Winthrop Roslyn, but he knew 
very well he was little John Russ. 


A 7' HOME 


273 

Miss Roslyn kissed him, and he likedi it, and 
wondered why. 

“ Now, Henry, here ’s your nephew.” 

'' God bless you and keep you,” said Mjr. Roslyn, 
in a deeply moved voice, holding John’s hand in one 
of his and placing a hand on the boy’s head so that 
he could look long and searchingly at his face. 

do not know the boy’s face, David, but he 
looks as a Roslyn should ; and his eyes are surely 
like the picture.” 

Laramie, you will be friends with him , I know ! ” 

Laramie knew a great deal toe much to be elabo- 
rate in such a melee. 

It ’s a wonder he can endure it,” she thought, 
so she merely smiled and shook hands, but found 
a minute to whisper, “How’s Tom, John? All 
right?” 

He gave her a quick, grateful, recognizing look, 
and nodded. But she knew and he knew, that there 
was common ground between them. Young Roslyn 
Lee acquitted himself creditably, and then they all 
adjourned to the supper-room. 

The strain had been sufficiently relneved to render 
them all very talkative, and before they left the table 
John found himself enjoying things immensely. He 
liked everything; the very appearance of the rooms 
set him at his ease ; the table furnishiings seemed to 
be exactly right ; he liked the way these people 
talked, the tpqes of their voices, ^the humor, wit, 


274 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


kindline:ss of what they said. He seemed to fit in so 
well, and feel so at home, that quite unconsciously he 
fo ind himself making those dry, quiet, comprehen- 
siv’c remarks that had always made him such good 
company to Kathie and Tom. His father was 
delighted. Ife had seen nothing of that kind be- 
fore. The boy felt at home, and at once; that he 
had suppbsed to be impossible, and all the others 
were equally aware of it. 

‘‘This j*s certainly turning night into day,’’ said 
Laramie’s father. “ And, David, you have been at 
it now over forty hours without rest. This must 
stop.” 

A room cidjoining Mr. Roslyn’s had been fixed for 
John, as well as the brief time allowed. When he 
went into it, and his father stayed with him until he 
was in bed, a clean, delicious bed, in a wonderful 
night-garment that felt too good to be believed in, in 
a room that looked just exactly as a room ought to 
look, he was filled with a grateful, loving feeling that 
would express itself. 

“Jesus Ghriist helped all this out this way, didn’t 
he, father? Since T knew he cared about me, no 
matter where 1 was or how things were, I ’ve felt just 
as good — so different — and now he ’s brought this 
about. My ! ” 

Mr. Roslyn was on his knees by the boy’s bed, 
his arm around the slight figure, and holding the thin 
hand. He had always been a praying man, but his 


AT HOME 


275 


prayers had been agonizing wrestlings with God for 
his son. Now it seemed so different. The difference 
appalled him. His former attitude humiliated and. 
abased him. 

Lord, thou knowest, thou knowest ! ” and his 
heart would say no more. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


PLANS 

Mr. Roslyn had always entertained a thorough 
respect and regard for his lawyer. Now he abomi- 
nated him. His lawyer was with him at his own 
home. Tie was urging on him all sorts of impossi- 
ble things in regard to the identity of John. 

If yon are satisfied that he is your son, that is a 
good thingr^ but you have n’t proof that will really 
settle the n latter for any one else, and if you die, and 
your will should be contested, and his identity 
brought u;.3 in the courts, I say — I say things 
wouldn’t go as you wish. Now settle the matter by 
adopting him.” 

Mr. RosHm burned with wrath. Adopt his own 
son ! Throw a slur on him at the outset ! Never ! 

A servant at the door said that a priest wanted to 
see Mr. Rosl*yn, and refused to go away or wait. 

Take him in the print-room. I will see him at 
once.” He was glad to get away from this beast of 
a lawyer. 

The priest- evidently had something to say, and 
glided at onoe into his mission without preliminaries. 

‘‘My dutie;^ call me to our Hospital of the Sacred 

27 § 


f 


PLAJVS • 277 

Heart. We have had there for some time a won.-^an 
slowly dying of an incurable disease. She died y<.«s- 
terday. Knowing that death approached, she mat-je 
final confession. A portion of her confession sh,e 
desired me to transmit to Mr. David Roslyn at thi ^ 
address. Any such commission it is my habit t<Q 
execute at once, lest I be prevented. Whether thi^:^^ 
concerns you, you will know as I read it. I wrote \\ 
down in her own words, omitting irrelevances.’" He. 
read : 

About nine years ago, I think in June, I talked 
with a little boy playing near his house, and got him 
to come for a walk with me. He was about two 
years old, only very smart to talk. We got a long 
piece off, and nobody came out for him. He was 
nicely dressed, and his house was a rich house, and I 
thought if I took him off they would offer money for 
finding him, and I would take him back and get it. 
So I took him just as he was. But there was such a 
terrible hubbub about it, and such lots of policemen 
out, and detectives and all, that I was terribly fright- 
ened. So I dressed him as a little girl and took hin j out 
of the city with me, thinking I would find some way to 
get rid of him and get the money. But I was afraid 
to. He was a nice little boy, and I liked him, and 
took good care of him. I had him two years dressed 
as a girl, but people asked questions and worried me, 
so when I went to the city I darkened him up and 
dressed him as a boy, and sold him to a half-blind 


HIS BEST FR/EAID 


27^ 

[t alian who said he was going away. I never heard 
II lore about him, but it might help to find him.” 

The priest rose. Whether that concerns you or 
not T do n’t know. That was my part.” 

My dear sir, it is of the very greatest impgrtance. 
I must beg to detain you a few moments longer. 
Will you step this way? The boy is my son. I 
jhave but just recovered him, and this that you have 
read me makes some things perfectly clear.” 

‘‘ Now,” he thought, if this legal crank in here 
can’t fix up something to appease himself out of 
this, he can stay dissatisfied. I ’m not ! ” 

But it made a difference. The story now had a 
relalable sequence, and all those who were concerned, 
and who desired to relate an interesting story of loss 
and recovery, now had a satisfactory history in all 
particulars. 

“Uncle David, you will be a good many dollars 
poorer now, won’t you?” said Laramie one day at 
the table, a mischievous light in her eyes. 

* “ How so ? ” 

“Why, Uncle David! you can’t have forgotten 
the reward you offered to any one leading to Win- 
throp’s recovery ! Tom will be quite a rich individ- 
ual.” 

“ That ’s so I I never once thought of it ! But he 
shall have it, Laramie ; do n’t you worry.” 

Very favorable reports were made of Reddy’s be- 
haviour, and, as usual, he had no trouble in making 


PLANS 


279 


himself liked. Mr. Roslyn and Laramie both 
thought that it would be sufficiently safe to arrange 
for the coming of Mother Lide, Kathie, and Tom, 
but how and where seemed to be not nearly so easily 
settled. 

“You see, Uncle David,” said Laramie, “when 
anybody with money tries to stand off and do things 
for that sort of people the results are always unfortu- 
nate. The right sort of assistance — something that 
really is wanted — would perhaps serve a good pur- 
pose, but we do n’t really know how to go to work.” 

Mr. Roslyn’s idea was a nice little place outside 
the city to be given as a gift. 

Laramie doubted the feasibility of that, but could 
hardly say why. John was very little help. He 
told of the Krafs’ place, and of how Kathie enjoyed 
her week there, but it did not seem to settle matters. 
Reddy was hardly one to consult, as he had been so 
many years away from his mother, and was having 
struggle enough to adapt himself to his new busi- 
ness environment. 

“ Laramie,” said John, “ if you would just talk to 
Tom everything would straighten itself out at once.” 

That settled it, and that was how it happened that 
Tom and Laramie walked in a park together talking 
earnestly. Laramie had stayed over night in the 
city and had caught Tom at the apple stand at the 
hour John told her to go there. She quite fell in 
love with Mother Lide’s twinkling blue eyes and 


28 o 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


round face, bearing their record of years of hardship, 
suffering, and unfailing cheerfulness. 

Tom, the question is just this, — What does Mrs. 
Lidedell want? Reddy’s wages won’t support her 
yet, and still it seems as though it would be better 
for her to have the comfort of her son’s companion- 
ship as long as possible. If Uncle David knew what 
she would like he could manage something without 
anybody’s knowing he had done any more than take 
a friendly interest. Would she like a place outside 
the city, near by? ” 

Tom’s face shadowed and Laramie saw it. Then 
he laughed. 

“ We ’re city folks. Miss Laramie ; trees and birds 
and such and grass — oh, they ’re nice for an hour or 
so, or for people that like such things, but Mother 
Lide, now, and even Kathie, why, they ’re used to 
bricks and the noise of people all the time, and to 
seeing people.” 

^at must be in the city then,” said Laramie 
smiling. ‘'You suggest some good plan.” 

Tom thought a while. “Mother Lide ’s most too 
wore out to do the stand business constant, but 
she ’s always done something so long she would n’t 
be content to sit around like some of the women. I 
wish they could be down by the Bowers there. That 
is a good deal better neighborhood than our tene- 
ment; awful nice people, and just Mother Tide’s kind. 
The houses in that block are most all little bits of 


PLANS 


281 


things 'and the people aren’t packed so tight, so 
they can’t keep up the saloons like they do around 
us ; and it ’s quieter.” 

“ I see,” said Laramie. “And you think that 
neighborhood would suit, do you? And do you 
think Reddy would be satisfied to go home nights 
and behave? ” 

“Yes — I guess so,” a trifle hesitatingly. 

“And if we — Reddy, I mean — could rent, say 
three rooms, that would be about what they would 
like, would it? ” 

“ Oh, my, yes,” and Tom’s eyes danced. “And 
say, do you think Mr. Roslyn would give me a place 
in the store like he said once? I couldn’t bear to 
stay here alone with everybody there. I ’ve go^ my 
good clothes yet, have n’t wore ’em, so I ’d look all 
right. You see, I bought this shirt and pants so as 
to save ’em.” 

“Yes, I ’m sure, Tom.” 

“ Perhaps Reddy could find some place where 
Mother Lide could sell something. She always 
wanted, years ago, she said, to have a thread and 
needle ^store, that ’s what she calls it; and that would 
be a good neighborhood for that.” 

“ I think I understand all about it now, Tom. 
John said you could tell just what to do.” 

“John’s taken to gammon, has he? He’s the 
planner! Fellow that don’t do a thing but think 
ought to be able to get up something.” 


282 


HIS BEST FRIEHD 


Laramie was able to plan things herself when she 
could get an idea of what was desirable. She and 
her uncle very soon had things as they wanted them. 

Mr. Roslyn bought the building the Bowers were 
in, — it was the most disreputable building on the 
street, — and the one next to it, which was empty. 
Through his agent, he informed the Bowers that he 
meant to remodel their building but would quarter 
them in another until the repairs were made and that 
then they could occupy the same amount of room as 
before in the new building for the same rent. 

Mr. Bower was afraid there was some catch In it 
and Mrs. Bower was positive no improvements worth 
anything would be made. 

To sustain himself, Mr. Bower got out Mrs. 
Bower’s little, old black Bible which she had re- j 
ceived as a girl for attendance at Sunday-school, I 
and read a psalm. It had already become a habit ^ 
with him to do so. He read nothing but the psalms 
so far. He read them aloud. He read them to 
himself. He learned them. Their phraseology 
clung to him. They uplifted and comforted him. 
Their strength entered into him. His wife did not 
care for psalms, but she listened always, and tried to 
enter into his feelings, she was so unspeakably glad 
that Robert had found something. She herself pre- 
ferred to read in the first three Gospels, a verse or so 
at a time, and she found comfort in thinking of the 
Saviour as a present help ; and having by nature a 


PLAN'S 


283 


strong sense of duty, she felt invigorated to take up 
her daily cares and duties as something more hope- 
ful and beautiful than she had ever found them 
before, and she felt as though they might all at last 
rise out of the oppressive failure of former years. 

The repairs on the buildings astonished them both. 
They were made over. When all was finished the 
grocery store was as fine as a store could be, with 
its counter and shelves and bins and boxes and con- 
veniences, beautiful with paint and fresh with plaster, 
and with a handsome window and entrance. 

In the next building was a little bit of a store with 
an equally pretty window and entrance, counter and 
shelves. There was also a door between the two 
stores, but that was closed. The buildings were 
entirely altered in the rear. The Bowers had the 
same, one room down-stairs and two up-stairs, but 
the staircase was a very different matter, and there 
was a bath-room and a modern sink and a remark- 
ably pretty window. Back of the little short store 
and on one side of it were three rooms and a bath- 
room. One room was a delightful affair with a bay 
window. Above were two rooms. 

The fence at the rear was rebuilt, new soil 
was put into the yard and sodded, and it was 
rumored that trees were to be set out. A back 
porch at each house and clothes-poles completed the 
causes for envy in the neighborhood. There was no 
such complete, modern, pretty building for blocks. 


284 


HIS BEST ERIEHD 


The Bowers were overwhelmed with congratulations 
on their success. And the agent was overrun with 
people wishing to rent the other half, until he hung 
out a sign of “Already rented,” on it. 

Reddy was sent to look at the house and rent it 
for his mother. 

“ I own those buildings myself, William,” said Mr. 
Roslyn, “ and I am making an experiment on good 
accommodations at low rents. Just how long I shall 
keep it up I can’t say, but I mean you and the 
family now in to have the first renting. Tom said 
your mother would like to keep a store, and I mean 
to advance, for the stock, whatever she chooses. 
Your salary, so long as you give satisfaction and are* 
willing to use a proper proportion of it for the 
support of your mother and the little girl, will be 
larger than would otherwise be possible, simply 
because I am under such obligation to your mother.” 

Reddy understood perfectly, but when he saw the 
house and store, the bay window and the bath-room, 
he just said, “ Oh, mother,” under his breath. He 
was like his mother. He understood her, and she 
understood him, and he had always loved her and 
clung to her and missed her, and now that he had 
crossed the gulf between them, and broken down the 
wall of separation, he longed to have her with him, 
and to repay her, and make her happy. 

Mr. Roslyn had made an effort that the right kind 
of young men should get hold of Reddy, and so it 


PLANS 


285 


happened that already he had been initiated into a 
great many new and Christian things. The gym- 
nasium, the reading-room, a class or two, some 
lectures, and particularly “meetings” as they called 
them, all had helped to make much that belongs to 
Christian hope, life, and experience partly clear to 
him ; but still in his thought he besought Tom’s 
Friend to be his friend, to help him and not to leave 
him ; and he plead very earnestly as he stood in the 
little store that he might be a great deal to his 
mother; but he would not have dared to call it a 
prayer. 

“ I believe William Lidedell is going to do well,” 
said Mr. Roslyn at the table, after he had seen 
Reddy on the completion of renting the building. 
“ He will make a man yet, I am sure of it ! ” 


CHAPTER XIX 


FINIS 

Reddy wrote to his mother to come, sent the fare 
for all, and told when he would meet her. 

John wrote to Mother Lide that Reddy had 
rented a nice place for her with a little store in it, 
that his father said he could make her any present 
he chose, and that he chose to partly stock the little 
store as a thread-and-needle shop, such as she used 
to describe to them, and to put in what furniture he 
wanted before they came. '' And tell Kathie,’' he 
said, 'Hhat she has a lovely sitting-room with a bay 
window, so she can see everything in the street, and 
with a door opening right into the store, so she can 
see and hear what goes on in there, and she is to 
have the loveliest surprises she ever dreamed of. 
Emily never came anywhere near it.” 

Mr. Roslyn wrote a very brief, business-like com- 
munication to Tom, requesting him to report at his 
residence at six o’clock of the day of his arrival in 
the city. 

Kathie was taken quite comfortably to the train, 
and some of the tenement people, Fr^u Kraf, 
Gretchen, and Hans were all there to see them off. 
Tom was in his good clothes again, and was very 

286 


FINIS 287 

nearly as excited as Kathie herself, though he did his 
best to keep his feelings from cropping out. 

Reddy was at the station with a hack. It was just 
noon. The slender young fellow, kissing his mother 
and Kathie, and shaking hands vigorously with Tom, 
and asking the same questions over and over again 
without any thought of the answers, won many a 
sympathizing smile from fellow passengers. 

“Where’s the place, Reddy? ” asked Tom. 

“ Next to Bower’s. Tom, you just wait till you see 
it! The Grand Duke is a brick after all’s said and 
done.” 

Tom knew he meant Mr. Roslyn. 

When they drove up to the newest, and by all odds 
finest, little building on the street, and got out by the 
shining new store and delightful bay window, Kathie 
clasped her hands, shut her eyes, and squealed with 
I joy. She opened them to find that John, radiant of 
face and beautiful in Kathie’s eyes as to his apparel, 

' was hugging her and kissing her. He did the 
same to Mother Tide, and Tom laughed outright, 
and Mother Tide exclaimed : 

“ Oh, the boy Johnnie ’s after gettin’ to be ! ” 
i Laramie had come down with John to give final 
J touches to the rooms, but she had taken her depart- 
ure on seeing the hack. 

Inside, joy was let loose. Kathie was seated at 
i once in a wheeled and cushioned chair that she could 
I propel herself, and when they could take their atten- 


288 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


tion from that the store had to be examined, and it 
turned out that to Mother Lide it was like a longed- 
for doll to a child ; to sit in social state and sell the 
best quality of thread, needles, tape, and notions to 
chatty neighbors was a dream evidently about to be 
realized. She could hardly be persuaded to leave it, 
though Kathie was turning with longing eyes toward 
her sitting-room. 

And such a room ! White curtains, pictures, sev- 
eral potted plants, a table with a most giddy work- 
basket upon it, knitting-needles, and hints of various 
colored wools in a bag, a blue and white carpet, a 
very dream of a lounge, a rocking-chair evidently 
especially ordained for Mother Lide, and a little low- 
hung bookcase with bright-backed books ! 

Every one of them laughed to choke off the lump 
that would come just at the sight of that pale, happy 
little face. And then came a bedroom with real fur- 
niture in it, and a bath-room, and neither Kathie nor 
Mother Lide had ever seen a bath-room before; and 
then the living .room ; and there was more in the 
surprise line. 

The table was all set for dinner, with a table-cloth, 
and blue and white dishes, and a tumbler for every- 
body, and flowers in the middle. And there was a 
china-closet with glass doors and dishes in it, and a 
wooden-doored closet with cooking things in it, and 
a wide, low window that reminded Mother Lide of 
her gbildhood ; ^nd a wide back porch ; and a stove 


FINIS 


289 


with the dinner all ready where it would keep warm. 
Mrs. Bower had cooked it, and a dinner it was long 
to be remembered, for Mrs. Bower could cook. 

Reddy had his dinner, and had to go back to the 
store. He could n’t eat very well, the loving pride 
in his mother’s every look choked him so. But 
Kathie ate. Tom and John said they could see her 
grow fat. 

They all cleared things up together. Tom arid 
John both had a secret misgiving that things would 
not look as they did now very long. 

Mother Lide seemed to answer their thought. 

Now I ’ll be keeping store right here, and with 
Kathie to let me know when any one comes in, I 
can take good care of all these nice things, John. 
Kathie likes things pretty, and I ’m thinkin’ Billy 
does, and I ’ll be after cleanin’ up fine ! ” 

Kathie was put on the lounge and dropped asleep, 
exhausted with pleasure. Tom went in to see the 
Bowers, and John explained to Mother Lide that if 
Tom agreed, he was to live at the Roslyn house, and 
he would n’t be back that night, anyway. 

Over on the Bowers’ side, pleasure at seeing Tom 
was enthusiastically expressed. Bobby fondled one 
hand and Daisy the other; Mrs. Bower praised him 
and welcomed him without stint; Mr. Bower showed 
as plainly as possible how glad he was to see him, 
while the improvements were shown again and again, 
especially in the store. Trade had kept up well, and 
19 


290 


H/S BEST FRIEND 


the neighbors were friendly. They were all well. 

And Tom,” said Mrs. Bower, solemnly, I believe 
it was your Friend sojournin’ here with us in our 
misery did it all ! ” 

I ’m getting to see it, Tom,” said Mr. Bower. 

The words of the Psalmist are a great strength to 
me, and sometimes light seems to break all around 
me, and at all times I know the light is there — and 
that ’s what I never did know before. Come in often 
if you can, Tom; there’ll be nobody on earth we’ll 
be gladder to see.” 

It was getting late when Tom and John started off, 
glad to be alone together, full of new thoughts and 
hopes, and yet little able to talk. 

Tom, father wants you to stay with me, and live 
at our house, so we can be together. You ’d like it, 
wouldn’t you?” 

Why, why, why, John — I don’t seem to belong 
in that house. It’s different for you.” 

Oh, you ’d belong, fast enough, but I was n’t to 
say anything about it. You are to stay all night, any- 
way.” 

It was exciting enough. John had to show Tom a 
hundred things, and they were laughing and going 
off in gales of amusement such as John had never 
been guilty of before. Mr. Roslyn in the lower hall 
heard them. 

Tom ’s just got to stay; that ’s all. He ’s a reg- 
ular boy ; and Winthrop — Winthrop is n’t.” 


FINIS 


291 


So, after dinner, he had Tom in the dimly lighted 
library for a talk. He felt no awkwardness now in 
handling Tom, not the slightest. 

“ Tom, my boy, I am anxious to do everything pos- 
sible to preserve the existing friendship between you 
and Winthrop. I will frankly own that it is chiefly for 
Winthrop’s good. I mean by that that he needs you, 
I think, more than you need him. If you are going to 
take a man’s place in the world, as I expect him to 
do, your education for a long time must be similar, 
whatever either of you chooses to do. Proper prepa- 
ration is essential to success. So for a time, at any 
rate, I want you to make your home here at the 
house. Your pursuits, clothes, advantages, and 
restrictions will be practically the same. Now, Tom, 
my boy, do n’t you for a moment permit yourself to 
become uneasy. I can see you squirm. You must 
have an education and other things to permit you to 
avail yourself of the position in our wholesale house 
which you shall surely have as soon as you are fitted 
for it. Oh, yes ; education is the main thing, and it 
does n’t go on all the time by books by any means ; 
summers I shall turn you into the store, at the bot- 
tom, and expect you to learn the whole business in- 
side and out. But that won’t be enough. Brains 
and ability are good, but educated brains and ability 
are better. Our house, my boy, needs the best that 
can be had. As for your independence, have no 
hesitation. Every cent you spend will be your own. 


292 


HIS BEST FRIEN’D 


I hold a sufficient sum in your name to defray all 
possible expenses until you are on a money-earning 
basis in the establishment. Where does it come 
from? Why, my dear boy, for nine years a reward 
has been offered to any one enabling me to recover 
my son. The money has been transferred to your 
name. The obligation, will, of course, always 
remain wholly on my side. Now, sir, with such def- 
erence to your opinion as I shall accord to Win- 
throp’s, I shall arrange such a course of life for the 
next few years as will best prepare both of you for 
your manhood. 

. Come to me, Tom.’' His voice was very low 
and gentle ; he placed both hands on Tom’s shoul- 
ders. “ I ’m your friend, Tom, wholly. Be mine. 
You have missed a great deal, as Winthrop has, 
through not having a father. Do n’t miss it any 
more. Do you understand me, Tom? Do you be- 
lieve me? ” 

Tom was n’t used to it. He fought his best 
against it, and then he broke down and cried like a 
baby, and Mr. Roslyn held him down on his knee 
and let him cry, and enjoyed it. Tom would never 
hold away from him after that. 

Well, you little burglar, you,” he whispered, ‘^is 
it a bargain? I love you, Tom. Come ! ” 

I — I — I ’m glad of it,” sputtered Tom, and then 
he laughed, and Mr. Roslyn laughed, and he shook 
hands solemnly with Tom, and made him promise 


F/NIS 293 

to be his firm friend and treat him as one in 
return. 

“Now we’ve been solemn enough, haven’t we? 
I did n’t dare talk with you before dinner, for fear it 
would take away your appetite, and I am afraid now 
I have ruined your digestion. Here, Tom, I ’ll show 
you some of my treasures” — and rather sadly and 
rather reluctantly he opened some drawers back in 
his desk and showed -Tom a miniature of his dead 
wife, a number of pictures of John as a baby, and 
a few little toys. 

“ It used to seem to me like a grave of all my 
hopes, of my very life. And now it is not. Tom, 
whatever happens to you, never lose sight of trust, 
faith in God. Never ! That would be the worst 
thing that could happen to you in this world.” 

So Tom’s immediate career was settled, and it was 
a very light-hearted pair of boys who sat up in a 
room that had been fixed for them as a sort of study, 
den, and workshop, and talked things over. 

“Tom,” said John gravely, “what do you believe 
was the best thing ever happened to me? ” 

“ Why, finding your father ! ” said Tom in sur- 
prise. 

“ That was a piece of it, the way I think of 
it. It was your telling me about our Friend, about 
Christ; the understanding about it. I was feeling so, 
oh, I can’t explain it ! I believe I would have waked 
up some morning dead,” with a laugh, “ and then I 


294 


HIS BEST FRIEND 


understood about that, and felt it, and things all 
looked different, and I felt as though I could just 
pick up and live as long as I needed to, and each day 
I seemed to understand more, and care more, and 
this all seems a piece of it. And I ’m so glad I 
do n’t feel different here, inside now. The loving 
feeling came before, just because I knew he cared, 
the Christ.” 

“ It ’s queer, is n’t it?” said Tom slowly. I know 
just what you mean. Now, I ’m not any like you. 
Everything suits me, and I always had a good time, 
but there ’s just no comparison between knowing, feel- 
ing, believing in our Friend, and not knowing. I did n’t 
tell you, I guess — I never told anybody — but to me, 
he, Jesus, is a friend, my age and size. He ’s — oh, I 
can’t tell you about it ! — I love him.” Tom’s face 
looked white in his eagerness. He ’s so — every- 
thing. He ’s a boy for me, and all the rest beside ; 
and he cares, and he knows, and I sort of grow up to 
it more all the time. I know it is n’t so to every one. 
To Mr. Bower, now, it’s different; and to Kathie 
he is Emily’s Saviour; and to Reddy, Jesus Christ is 
a real helper, but not so very close ; and to Miss 
Roslyn he is near and. compassionate, but just the 
Jesus she reads about in her book, I mean the Jesus 
of Palestine as he lived and taught there. And to 
you he is the Jesus who returned to God from earth, 
and loves and cares for us all — is n’t he? ” 

“And to Laramie?” John’s eyes twinkled. 


Fims 


295 


I ’m not going to talk about Miss Laramie,” said 
Tom, reproachfully. His devotion to Laramie was 
an open secret to John. 

And to father? ” 

I can sort of feel how it is, but it is n’t my busi- 
ness to talk about folks who know more than I do, 
now is it? ” 

No ; perhaps not. But I know what you mean, 
Tom. We could all have our very best life and 
friend in Jesus, no matter how we ’re made, if we 
only understood and would give our hearts a chance 
to grow out toward him.” 


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